The Crown of Promise
by Iell Eruo
Summary: All Amy wanted for her birthday was a costume party based on her favorite books, but when her best friend arrives to help set up she finds that things are a little more real than she had thought...
1. The Bookstore

Disclaimer:

I am not J.R.R. Tolkien. I do not own his work. I am just one of the drooling masses wishing I could somehow make my way into his beautiful world. Until that is actually possible, welcome to my dreams…

**Chapter One – The Bookstore**

"Ah, Aria, my dear! I was about to lock up for the night; you came just in time!" The dusty old gentleman announced when he heard the familiar tinkle of the bell above his shop door. Spying a lithe form carefully making its way between the book-laden tables, he ducked behind the counter and began fishing around for her package.

"I am sorry Mr. Williams, but it couldn't be helped."

"No need to fret, dear, it came in and I set it aside for… Ah ha! Here you go!" He nimbly sprang up holding a small mailing carton.

"Goodness Mr. Williams! If I hadn't grown up down the street I would never think it possible for you to be much older than I am! You move very fast for someone of your… maturity…"

"Well, the thing nowadays is to hide how old one is, but I say that it is better to age… gracefully… Besides, what is the point of living if you can't have a little fun now and then, eh?" His eyes twinkled mischievously and he gave such a quirky grin that Aria had to laugh out loud, her clear alto ringing gaily off the bookshelves which she turned to survey once more.

The bookshop was narrow, half of the bottom floor of a two-story building, with old dusty bookshelves reaching up to short windows by the ceiling. A metal rolling ladder, well oiled and well used, sat expectantly on its track and more old books were laid in various heaps on the tables down the center isle. Randomly interspersed with the books were display cases housing exotic jewelry and weapons that gleamed even in the dim light that filtered in from the overcast sky. Mr. Edward Williams himself was as odd as his collection: a spirited old man of at least 70 who looked and acted more like a 20 year old. Tall, slim, and pale with laughing blue eyes and a pair of bifocals always hanging around his neck.

"It does my heart good to hear you laugh like that." He said, suddenly becoming very sober. "Whatever happens, you must always laugh, my dear."

"But Mr. Williams, why wouldn't I have a reason to laugh when I have good old friends like you?"

"Of course; you are right Ari. I think that I am just feeling my age at the moment. Well, here is your order: one leather bound _Atlas of Middle Earth_, already wrapped for the party." He announced, producing the gift and tossing the cardboard box aside.

"Thank you!" she breathed reverently, plopping her bulging backpack on the counter. Choosing a zipper she opened a compartment wide enough to hold the present.

"Oh, are you packed already?"

"Yeah. I finished the dress last night and left it hanging up all day. I put it in last so that it wouldn't get wrinkled before the party. Considering the weather, Amy said that we could change when we arrived. I want to get there early so that we can help each other with our hair."

"Do you have enough time to indulge an old man?" he whispered.

"Certainly." she smiled, unzipping another compartment, removing the dress, and shaking it out. It was a floor-length A-line with bell sleeves; light green with a darker green gauze peaking out of the sleeves, the scooped neckline, and the hem. She held it up to herself so that he could see it better and the effect was stunning. The dress lent a green shade to her silvery-grey eyes and set her black hair off against her pale skin.

"Wow!"

"I know!" she gushed.

"I told you green is your color."

"Yes! I have a belt in there somewhere that matches the trim color and, of course, I am wearing the boots. The cloak is rolled up there on the top; it wouldn't fit in the bag, but that's okay because it keeps the rain off."

"You know… I have just the thing to compliment that dress, if you want to borrow it…" he said thoughtfully.

"What?" she laughed.

"Yes, yes, just the thing. Come with me and I will show you. Leave your bag; it will be fine for a few minutes."

Curious, she laid the dress over the bag and followed him behind the counter into the back room. After opening a drawer on his desk, the old gentleman retrieved a wooden box and held it out to her; she gasped when she opened it. Inside the box was a circlet made of silvery-white metal: several strands of inter-twining bands that looped down in the front to hold four diamonds, pointing at each other like a fiery star.

"I… I can't possibly—"

"Sure you can. I trust you, dear."

"But… but the craftsmanship alone—"

"Yes, it was made by a master."

"—must be worth more than the silver itself!"

"Silver! Whoever said it was silver?"

"Platinum?"

"No!"

"It's… not real then?"

"Of course it's real; you can touch it if you like!"

"But—"

He laid his hand on her shoulder for comfort. "Relax Ari. I wouldn't give you something I thought you could damage now, would I?"

"Well…no…"

"So then, you just bring this back on Monday and tell me all about the party, okay? I am dying to know how she likes the book. Perhaps more of your friends will come around and I won't be so lonely, eh?" He laughed then, a thing which always made her smile. "Now, let's get you packed up so that you aren't late! Come along." And before she could say another word, they were back at the front counter folding the dress around the jewelry box and gently tucking it into the backpack.

"I don't know what to say… Fa— Edward."

"There is nothing to say, except perhaps 'see you later'."

"Oh! Thank you!" she breathed, wrapping him in a hug.

"Ah… now scoot. You have a costume party to attend while I have a store to close." And she was off, the bell chiming in with her laughter as she fairly skipped out the front door. The old man let out a sigh and began clearing empty boxes off of the counter.

"Did you do it?" he asked quietly after a few moments.

"Yes," came a voice from the shadows above him. "Was it wise to send her off like that? She is totally oblivious to your intentions… or those of others."

"Oblivious or not, now is the time. My dreams have been growing darker of late." Williams leaned back against the wall and ran his hands through his close-cropped silver hair.

"Dreams?" A shadow on top of one of the bookshelves detached itself from the wall and an instant later a man landed silently on the floor below. "What dreams?" he demanded, placing his hands on the counter.

"Oh, you know, the same ones as always." He straightened and unlatched the counter to walk through.

"You don't think they know, do you?"

"They know something is up. How much or exactly what… I don't have a clue. You'll just have—"

Suddenly the front door burst open with a gust of wind and ran; a figure stepped into the opening.

"I am sorry, but the store is closed now." Williams had to shout to be heard. The figure did not move so he began walking, against the wind, toward the doorway. "I said: 'We're closed!'" he yelled.

The man by the counter couldn't make out who was in the doorway but something didn't feel right. Noticing a slight change in the light he narrowed his eyes and glanced warily around the room, coming to rest on a display case showing a delicately wrought saber. It was glowing blue.

_"Cón! Yrch!"_ he screamed before vaulting the counter and bolting for the door. The lights went off suddenly before he could reach it. Quickly skidding to a halt, he changed his tactic and jumped to the top of a nearby bookshelf. Landing silently, he stayed flat so as not to be seen in the light from the windows.

After making sure the alley was clear he quietly unlatched the window nearest to him and slid out onto the ledge below. When the window was closed again, he crawled to the back of the building where there were no windows and from there he climbed onto the roof.

Crouching in the shadows he saw several figures round the corner in the alley and split up to cover all of the exits. When they were sufficiently occupied he took a running leap and landed on the roof of the next building over. Circling around he saw nothing unusual on the street. They were all inside the bookshop with Williams.

Gritting his teeth he had to fight the urge to stay and help his friend. With an effort he turned his back and began his trek through the rain. Jumping nimbly between rooftops and running across the electric lines over intersections he made his way uptown. No matter how close his friendships, he had made his choice a long time ago: his duty was to the crown. _And the crown is with Aria!_ The thought hit him like a ton of bricks and a grim look came over his face as he resolutely strode on into the black night.

**Glossary**

_Cón_ (Sindarin) "commander, captain"

_Yrch_ (Sindarin) "orcs", singular form is _"orch"_

A/N:

So! My first chapter of my first fic… that wasn't so hard. Was it really what you thought it was?


	2. Party Crashers

Disclaimer:

Since you insist on hanging around inside of my dreams, I must needs conclude that you are as… shall we say… odd… as I am and therefore it will not be as surprising for you to learn that I don't own Middle Earth or any of the people, places, languages and ideas contained therein… not that I don't wish it, mind you, but Mr. Tolkien is the genius whereas I am the bringer of insanity…

Speaking of which, let the madness continue!

**Chapter Two – Party Crashers**

"Aria! Quick, come in out of the rain!"

"Thanks Amy and Happy Birthday! I just hope my backpack didn't get wet… your present might be all soggy." Aria said smiling and shut the door behind her.

"SooOoo?"

"So... what?" The backpack hit the floor with a thud and its owner turned to hang up her soaking raincoat.

"So? Wha-dja get me?"

"I got you…" Aria knelt over the bag and slowly unzipped a compartment.

"Yeah?"

"…this nice shiny package! Look, isn't it pretty?" She held it up for her friend to see. "Why don't you put it with all of your other pretty packages?" she laughed as Amy almost dropped the present.

"What's in this thing, bricks?" Amy placed it with the others on the coffee table.

"I don't know. I didn't wrap it."

"Well, who did?" Amy planted her hands on her hips.

"If I told you _that_ it wouldn't be a surprise anymore. Hey, you've got to see my—"Aria straightened and the dress that she'd just unpacked unfurled dropping a box at Amy's feet. "Oh! Oh! I hope I didn't break it!" Aria scrambled for the box and sighed when she found no harm had been done to the contents.

"What's that?" Amy asked.

"This is the finishing touch to my costume; I borrowed it from a friend. He seems to think that it's indestructible, but it looks so delicate and I don't want to break it… Here, let's go hang up the dress and you can show me your outfit." Aria closed the lid and slid the box into her backpack.

"Sure! Wait till you see what I've got! It's in my bedroom. I'll race you—" Amy was already halfway up the stairs before Aria could collect her things and follow. "Slowpoke!" she laughed when Aria finally reached the landing. "Come on!" And then they were in her bedroom where a stunning maroon dress was laid out on the bed.

"Wow! Did you make it by yourself? I can't wait to see you in it! You should see mine!" Aria held hers out for inspection and then turned to trace the gold braid that trimmed Amy's dress.

"Honestly, Aria, I think that we are going to be the hits of the party! This is sooo perfect! Let's go grab some snacks and get started on our hair. I know exactly how I'm gonna do yours!"

"Okay… I'll race ya!" Aria grinned, and with the assistance of the banister she was on the ground floor long before her friend. "Slowpoke!" She mimicked Amy's stance from a few minutes ago and they both laughed all the way to the kitchen.

"Did you hear that?" Aria asked as they walked back into the foyer 15 minutes later. Pausing carefully, so as not to drop any of their precariously stacked plastic containers, the girls stood still and listened. Hearing nothing but the rain, Amy shrugged and they both started for the stairs.

"I think it might have been Mr. Johnston's cable antenna again. He never secures it properly and every time there is a storm it gets knocked down."

"No, it… I don't know… I just have this funny feeling…"

"Well, its okay to feel kinda spooked when it's storming outside. The weather has this way of messing with people's moods."

"Let's change the subject, then. It's giving me goosebumps."

"Okay! How is your project coming for Ms. Phillips' class? I've already started drawing up wordlists."

"I am still trying to find a language to study. Which one did you pick?"

"Elvish!"

"Figures. Quenya or Sindarin?"

"Sindarin is more common, so I figured it could come in handy if I decided to write down one of those stories that just seem to pop into my head…" Amy paused, shifted the tray to one hand, and opened the bedroom door. "So are you even leaning toward one or you just haven't started looking at all?" They set their trays on the desk and started pulling out hair supplies.

"Honestly? I haven't looked. I was thinking about using Latin or Greek since I am already studying them for my minor—"

"You can't do that! The point is to break down a completely made up language! She'll never let you use those… Why don't you do Quenya? We could work together on the background and creator stuff…"

Aria sighed, mumbling something like, "Whoever said it was made up…" After a moment she chuckled. "Why not? You'll never leave me alone until I give in, so I'll just yield now and we can just skip the annoying parts." She shook her head and Amy gave her a hug before going to put Aria's backpack in the closet. "Is it true that James picked Klingon?"

"Yes and I think that—Ahhhh!"

Aria turned to see her friend staring into the closet where a soaking wet, tall, blond man dressed in black was holding a gun.

"Is that your backpack, Aria?" he said softly. She nodded, staring at the gun. "Did you take anything out of it yet?" She nodded again. "What did you remove?" She blinked, but said nothing. "WHAT did you remove?" She jumped and looked around.

"Umm… a dress, a package, some hair stuff—"

"Where is it all?"

"On the bed there—"

"Repack it." When she moved toward the bed he looked at the frightened brunette standing before him and blinked in surprise before grunting, "What is your name?"

"A—Amy."

"Amy, do you have a sturdy backpack?"

"Yes."

"Get it. Pack two changes of warm clothes and split that food between both bags. Is that dress yours?" She nodded. "Good. Pack it too. And put on some boots." Both girls scurried around the room gathering supplies. "Aria, where is your friend's birthday present?"

"In—in the foyer."

He looked at Amy who had just finished lacing her boots. "Amy." She looked up. "Go downstairs and get that package. Aria is going to stay here with me." he pointed the gun at her as he spoke. "You have exactly five seconds to get back up here with that package or something bad is going to happen to your friend. Do you understand? Go!" The girl bolted out of the room.

"Aria, finish packing the food; you are going to need it." She looked at him questioningly before moving to comply. "I hate to be so dramatic, but it is for your own good. They have found us again, _mel—_"

Amy stepped back into the room just then, winded and clutching the heavy present. "What did you say?" she gasped.

"You made it. Pack that in your bag; you may need that, too. Are you all done? Good, put on your cloaks, I know you have some." The girls looked at each other with shocked expressions and then moved to pull them out.

Suddenly there was a huge crash downstairs. It was like part of the house had just collapsed.

The man in black cursed and sprinted to the door. Quietly shutting it he leaned on the nearby dresser and pushed it to block the entrance. "That may buy us some time, get those packs on."

Harsh voices sounded in the lower part of the house.

While they both donned their cloaks and backpacks, the man in black glanced around double-checking the room. "That'll have to do, I suppose. Now stand over there." He used the gun to point out the farthest corner from the door.

Heavy feet began climbing the staircase.

The girls moved without complaint, but each looked at him oddly; Aria, lost in some frightening memory and Amy, trying to get a grasp on the situation.

Heavy feet reached the landing.

The man reached inside his jacket and pulled out a silver chain which he tossed to Aria.

The door knob rattled on the other side of the room.

The man looked at Amy, hesitated, and then pulled another silver chain out from under his shirt, over his head, and handed it to her. "Put them on."

The door shook as someone began pounding on it.

"Please, God, I hope I'm wrong." He murmured quietly and then pulled something from each boot. "You may need these." He said quietly, handing each girl a long knife. Aria looked from the weapon to the man before her, nodded once and stepped back into a half-crouch; waiting. Amy never noticed, simply staring at the foot-long, silver blade; it was lightweight and delicately curved with beautiful script etched on both sides. And it was glowing blue.

The door splintered after the fifth hit. One more blow from the landing produced a hand that began feeling around for the lock.

The man cocked his gun and began whispering.

The hand found the dresser and a gravelly voice began yelling.

Aria stared at the door and began whispering also. Amy looked up, finally noticing her friend's unusual behavior and the matching knife held comfortably in her hand… glowing.

With a crash, the bedroom window gave way to a mighty wind.

Both girls jumped, Amy because she was startled, Aria, spinning to counter any attack from behind.

The door started spraying bits of wood as the person on the landing shot it to pieces.

A whirlwind began forming just inside the window.

A large hole was beginning to form in the door.

The man in black motioned for the girls to head for the whirlwind.

An arm appeared in the door; the man shot at it and it disappeared.

The girls hesitated.

"There is no time to be timid! They're coming, dammit, move!"

Amy was closest, so he pushed her into the vortex and Aria screamed as her friend disappeared through the second-story window.

A gun appeared in the door and began firing in random directions.

The man fired back rapidly and grabbed Aria's backpack, shoving her toward the whirling ink.

"I am sorry, _elunîn_." He murmured as one last shot rang out.

The man lost his grip on the gun and they both fell forward into blackness.

**Glossary**

_Elunîn_ (Sindarin) my heart

A/N:

Ooohhh! Cliffhanger! Why did the girls trust the closet stalker? What is up with all the glowing blades? Where shall things pick up next time, I wonder?

Stay tuned, folks!

F/X: diabolical laughter fading out


	3. Rough Landings

A/N and Disclaimer, forsooth:

Yea, verily, the authoress hereby proclaims that she has no legal claim to the works of J.R.R. Tolkien… in the waking world... She would also like to express her gratitude to the insightful, yet anonymous reviewer who spared a few minutes of their preciousssss time to make her day. Sadly, the authoress also acknowledges that she is now rather addicted to rush she gets when receiving a review… almost as badly as she is addicted to LOTR… almost…

It has been deemed that you should know the following:

_Thoughts in any language._

"English speech."

"_Non-English speech, which Amy can't understand."_

'Another non-English speech which Amy can't understand.'

Speaking of which: the aforementioned authoress decrees that the show must go on!

(Sound of whip cracking as various static characters begin running in their hamster-wheels; a curtain slowly ascends to reveal…)

**Chapter 3 – Rough Landings**

Amy heard something unusual. She couldn't place it, but something sounded strange. It was a wonder she could hear anything at all, considering how close she had just been to a gun fight. _That's it! _There was a river nearby, and if her ears were not mistaken it was running very full and fast.

"It is so loud here!" she whispered, sitting straight up. _That was a mistake._ "Okay, Amy, move slower next time…" she scolded herself, lay back down and put her hands over her face to block the sunlight and combat the dizziness. When she was feeling better she raised her hands to shield her eyes and began to take stock of her surroundings. She was lying in a clump of tall grass with some trees behind her casting shadows all around.

"Maybe if I got off of the ground I might be able to see something worth while…" Amy sat up slowly this time and actually made it to her knees. Her backpack felt like lead so she shrugged off the straps, one getting caught in the chain around her neck. Half-choking, she twisted around to untangle herself and thought she saw someone in the trees. When she was free of the pack she looked again, but there was no one. Shrugging, Amy turned her attention to the troublesome chain. _It's rather sturdy for something so thin._

Links of a whitish-silver metal looped around each other to form a chain that draped just below her collar bones where a pendant rested next to her heart. Amy held up the pendant to get a better look at it: a simple silver disk with strange flowing script engraved on one side and a star on the other. At least it looked like a star. Four triangles pointing toward the center from the edges, forming a sort of cross, with four lines gracefully sweeping like an 'X' from the center to the edges between them.

"Huh… I wonder if Aria's pendant is the same as this one… Aria!" Amy started when she remembered how she came to be kneeling in the meadow. _Where is she? Did she land nearby?_ Scrambling up onto her feet Amy tucked the knife into her belt and began scanning the grass around her until she saw a dark lump off to her left. Grabbing her backpack in one hand and wrapping the bottom of her cloak in the other, she hurried over to the prone figure.

000

Aria was in pain and didn't know where she was. She could hear rushing water somewhere to her right, _how is that possible? _Gritting her teeth, she attempted to open her eyes. _No—not a good idea_ ; the shafts of sunlight felt like knives and that just made things worse. _Maybe if I rolled onto my side I could get up and figure out what's what._ But as soon as her left shoulder touched the ground, fiery darts of heat shot through her body. "Ahhgg!" Everything went black again.

000

_Sharp pain and then darkness… blessed oblivion…a dull thud and then more pain… why wouldn't it stop hurting? A cool breeze wafted by melodiously, easing the fiery fingers that demanded so much attention. How?_

_**Come.**_

_Where?_

_**It is time for you to walk my halls. **_

_No! My heart! Something else to be done!_

_**That fate is not yours. Speak quickly for you cannot refuse my call.**_

000

"Ahhgg…"

"Hush, you are hurt."

"Amy…?"

"Yes, I am here. Save your strength; you've been shot, I can't get the bleeding to stop."

"No time…" Breaths came in ragged gulps. "Take crown to… _Elves_… say… _Beriol_… sent you…"

"I think you might have a concussion."

"Listen!... ah _—Renne_ has… every—everything you need…keep… safe…"

"Shhh… it's okay. You're going to be all right."

"For—forgive me…I did—didn't mean…"

"Hey, you saved my life back there. There is nothing to forgive; but I can't thank you properly if you don't hang on. Just keep breathing… don't give up…!"

**_Come!_**

"M—Man—_Mandos_ calls… remember crown… pr—promise!"

"I promise, I won't forget!"

"—is time…"

"No!"

000

Cyermanto snapped to full alertness, effectively cutting off any conversation with his partner Sáranésa, hushed though it may have been. They both looked warily out at the edge of the trees. Finally the younger one couldn't stand the tension anymore.

_"What do you think is out there, sir?"_

_"Hush! Stay about 10 feet to my left."_ The younger one copied her mentor, notching an arrow in her bow, and silently followed him towards the bright expanse. Ducking behind trees on the farthest boundary the two border guards surveyed the grassy riverbank laid out before them.

After careful notation the mentor turned to his charge. _"What do you see?"_ he whispered.

Sáranésa kept her eyes on the field. _"Nothing; except… a strange, dark shape in the grass to my right. Shall we check it out, sir?"_

Cyermanto made a mental note to lecture her about patience, but, neither sensing nor seeing an immediate threat, he decided to let her go. _"Alright. I'll cover you from here, be quick and tell me what you find."_

The trainee stowed her archery gear, drew a long knife, and darted forward toward the object. At first it seemed to be a boulder, but when she had circled around behind it she saw that it was a person; a young woman, lying on her left side in a pool of blood. _"Sir, it is a wounded girl!"_ she said, falling to her knees beside the prone figure.

_"What?"_ Cyermanto rushed to stow his gear and join her in the field. Kneeling and rolling the woman onto her back he noted her strange clothing, extremely pale features, and the amount of blood on the ground. _"Get something to stop the bleeding! We must take her back to the post where there are more supplies."_ Quickly the two bound her wound and returned to the safety of the trees. With Cyermanto carrying the unconscious girl on his back and Sáranésa carrying the girl's things and guarding their retreat, they quickly covered the distance to the patrol post.

000

Eyes went wide, dilated, and with one long, gurgling sigh the body went limp. Amy rocked back on her heels, a tear streaking its way down her cheek. Wiping her bloody hands on the tee-shirt she had been using to staunch the gaping chest wound, she slowly reached forward and closed those empty, unseeing eyes.

"All he was trying to do was protect us," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as more tears spilt softly on the tainted grass. After a few moments she took a deep breath to steady herself and wiped her face. Blinking rapidly in the late afternoon sunshine Amy was startled to find a green-cloaked figure crouching on the other side of the body; he was leaning on a wooden long-bow with one hand and feeling for a pulse with the other. Finding none, he looked up from under his hood at Amy with puzzlement and sympathy.

_"Garon nienor anich."_ He said, softly.

Giving a yelp, Amy tried to jump up and take a step backward, tripped on her cloak, and fell on her butt. The figure sprang forward in one long stride and was standing over her, offering her a hand. Tentatively she reached up; he grasped her arm firmly and pulled her to her feet.

_"Úthelon gadad cin útirnen."_

"What did you just say?" she turned her head up to peek at him from under her own hood.

The man looked down at her quizzically. _"Pedil i lam edhellen?" _

Amy stared at him blankly.

_'_Sôval Phârë batta?'

More blank looks. The man turned around and waved at the trees and yelled something she couldn't make out. Two more cloaked figures materialized from the trees and the man strode over to meet them. After a short conference the two figures stepped over to the body and, between them, carried it off into the woods. The first man motioned for Amy to take her backpack and follow them.

"Oh, God!" Amy sighed, looking up at the bright clouds. "What have I gotten myself into?" Then she shouldered her pack and set off into the shadows. The strange man glanced upwards and scanned the sky before following her with a grim smile on his face.

**Glossary & Translations**

_Mandos_ (Unknown Language) one of the Vala, Námo the Judge, Keeper of the Halls of the Dead

"_Garon nienor anich." _ (Sindarin) "Have-I sorrow for you."

"_Úthelon gadad cin útirnen." _ (Sindarin) "Not-did-I intend to catch unguarded-you."

"_Pedil i lam edhellen?" _ (Sindarin) "do you speak the Elven language?"

'_Sôval Phârë batta?'_ (Westron) "Are you a Common Speech talker?"

A/N:

Interesting, is it not? I personally liked the part where Amy fell on her butt! What about you?

Questions? Comments? Queries? Conundrums?

Remember: The authoress is now addicted to reviews... It might be wise to indulge her before she gets desperate and decides to…uh… do something… yeah…

**A/N II:**

Due to ongoing research the following change was made: Arien - Árenne.


	4. Lost in Translation

Disclaimer, etc.:

I, Iell Eruo (hereafter referred to as 'the Authoress'), do hereby solemnly swear that I have no legal claim to any of the works of one J.R.R. Tolkien (hereafter referred to as 'the Genius-ness') whether past, present, or posthumous. Something or other legal-sounding. 'The Authoress' is only borrowing 'the Genius-ness' in order to make the Plot Bunnies (hereafter referred to as 'the Persistent Little Boogers') leave her alone for a while. Blahbitty, blah, blah, blah. 'The Authoress' also apologizes in advance for the madness that she is about to inflict on the Readers (hereafter referred to as 'the Readers'). Stuff and nonsense. Et cetera. Et cetera.

(Insert Illegible Signature Here)

A/N:

"English"

_Thoughts_

"_Sindarin"_

**Chapter 4 – Lost in Translation**

After three near falls from the rope ladder, the strange man took pity on Amy and carried her backpack up for her. When she finally reached the top of the ladder she was astounded to find herself on a sturdy platform that was well hidden from the ground. The man left her pack where she could reach it and motioned for her to rest, which she did, gladly. At least her body did; her mind was going a million miles an hour.

_What is going on here? _ she wondered. _I mean, one minute I'm at home with my best friend getting ready for my birthday party and the next thing I know I'm getting kidnapped, end up in the middle of a gun fight, pushed through the window, and land in a field in the middle of nowhere! And to top it all off, the one person that seems to know what is going on dies right before I get captured by some Robin Hood wanna-bees who don't even speak English!_

Amy was getting agitated. Her body was responding to the hysterical whirl of her thoughts and soon she was up and pacing. One hand was clutching the pendant and the other was waving around in the air, punctuating the thoughts that she didn't know she was now vocalizing. "And what was that guy talking about? I know he was dying, but Elves? I wish! Seriously, though, who or what is_ Renne_? What crown? And _Beriol_? Was that supposed to be his name? What kind of a name is _Beriol_? Sounds like some kind of gemstone, not a guy's name at all… I don't even know what he wanted me to do, much less what he made me promise about some crown that doesn't exist! What was that last thing he said again?" She stood still, thinking, unaware of her stunned audience. "Oh, yes! 'Mandos calls.' What the heck is that supposed to mean? 'Mandos calls?' That sounds familiar…" Amy plopped down next to her backpack and pulled her knees to her chest, deep in thought.

The cloaked man had stood off to the side during her frantic pacing, realizing that she needed to come to terms with what had happened before he could get a coherent thought from her. She didn't seem to speak any language he knew, but no, he could pick out a few words that she spoke in her rambles. _Beriol must be the name of the dead Elf we found her with, for Elf he is despite his odd clothes and short hair… What could have possibly possessed him to cut it all off? No matter! His features proclaim him to be of Sindar descent. Hers I do not recognize; is she Elf-kind, also? No, her eyes are dark; she must be human. She is taller than most human females I've seen, but if that is the case, why didn't she understand me earlier? _ Glancing over at his subordinates, the cloaked man realized that he was going to have to make a decision soon, but he desperately wanted to get his Lieutenant's opinion before disturbing the girl. _What is she doing now? Ranting about Mandos and then just staring at nothing? Maybe that is a good sign? _

_"Thenid, híril, noho min in Rynd Mandos, hi. Noho band min Valinor, ah in Valar."_

Amy looked up at the cloaked man that had found her. He was standing above her, concern in his eyes as he spoke soothingly. _Something about Mandos and Valinor and Valar… Dear God! He is talking Tolkien! _ Her eyes went wide and she stood slowly to her feet, really taking in the figure before her, the tree platform and everything for the first time. Her jaw dropped and a choking sound came from her throat before she recovered and spun around to address the foliage above her head. "All right Aria! I know that I asked for a Tolkien based costume party for my birthday, but this is going a little far, don't you think!" There was no response. "Ha, ha! Great joke! You can stop now!" Silence. "Aria? It's not funny anymore! Call it off! Please?" The last part came out as more of a sob than a plea.

A hand gently settled on her shoulder and she jumped, startled. The man was still there; the very tall, armed man who was dressed in medieval-looking clothes and who refused to speak English. Amy spread her hands in a non-threatening way and began to back away. She had put a few feet between them before he yelled something that she didn't understand and lunged forward, grabbing her arms harshly.

"Let go of me! I'm not going to be part of this—"

He shook her to silence her and then pointed down, her eyes following his finger. There was nothing there! She had almost walked off of the edge of the platform! Seeing the distance between her foot and the ground, Amy let out another sob and collapsed forward. The man caught her and gently led her back to her pack in the center of the floor where she sat, hugging her knees to her chest, staring at nothing with glassy eyes.

The cloaked man watched her for a while. When he was confident that she wouldn't do anything dangerous he turned and began giving orders to one of the figures who had carried the body of Amy's protector to the base of the tree. _"Glennolen na herdir Elrond a narolen in bragiha. En gwanwen noho tangadad en tíras pedolín. Herdir Elrond—"_

"Elrond?" Amy started. The cloaked men went silent, watching her. "Are you talking about **the** Elrond? The Master of Rivendell: Elrond Half-Elven? Oh, what am I saying? If they want to 'live' in Tolkien's world, of course they are going to be talking about Elrond Peredhel!"

_"Istoch Elrond?"_ the leader inquired, turning to crouch next to her.

"Elrond, Rivendell…" she thought quickly, _Oh, bother, they don't speak English, remember? What else did Tolkien call it? Right… "Imladris?"_

The man's eyebrows shot up and he glanced to the others standing behind him who promptly began arguing rapidly. Amy couldn't make out any of the words, but they were so musical and, given the cause of the commotion, she began to get an idea. Amy dove for her backpack and hurriedly unzipped one of the compartments. Madly shuffling through the contents she pulled out a thick binder labeled "Adv. Linguistics - Ms. Phillips" and flipped it open. The lead man, who had not joined the argument, watched her out of the corner of his eye. He saw the triumph on her face when her roving fingers halted on a point half-way down one page and she looked up.

_"Edhelen?"_ she whispered to him, and the others were suddenly silent.

oOo

_"Okay, I'll stay down here and tend her, you climb up. Get some supplies and see if Arintiris is there. Be quick; she is fading fast!"_ Cyermanto knelt down at the foot of a tree and gently laid the injured woman on the ground while his charge scurried up the rope ladder like a squirrel. _"Come on, lady, live!"_

oOo

_"Pedin i lam edhellen. Man eneth lîn?"_ he spoke slowly and distinctly so that she could find his words in her papers.

She smiled at him to show she understood the question and then, pointing to herself, she said, _"_Amy van Deruo_. A le?"_

He looked quizzical for a moment, but before he could answer there was a commotion behind him. _"Man hi?"_ he hissed as a familiar dark head appeared at the edge of the flet.

_"Cón Arintiris, baur le cerim. Cyermanto garoho amro bo i talav harn inu."_

Amy couldn't understand the woman's words, but she understood the urgency in her voice. The men on the platform (or were they all supposed to be Elves?) looked to the one who had been talking to her and he began issuing orders again.

_"Nalloch an in rych. Nalloch an in loeb gwith. Lendom ni hobas!"_ They all scrambled to obey and he turned to face Amy, motioning for her to get up. She nodded, stuffed her binder into her backpack, re-zipped it and stood up to follow him. He grabbed her pack and headed for the ladder as a horn blast rent the air.

oOo

An air of concern settled over the Last Homely House as the echoes of a sentry's horn bounced around the rooftops. Elrond paused on the porch where he was talking with his sons. Turning back to the twins he noted their grim expressions. _"One of you send for the healers to ready their supplies; the other, gather the guard that is scheduled to relieve the Western border next. Something is not right."_ Both bowed and moved for the door; neither noticed their father's fingers unconsciously twisting the ring on his hand.

oOo

Cyermanto had laid the unconscious girl on the ground so that he could check her wound. It was curious; a small puncture on the back of her shoulder like an arrow would make, yet there was no arrow. It was not through-and-through like it would be if someone had pushed the arrow out, nor was the wound enlarged as if the arrow had been pulled out the way it had come. _Perhaps it is a stab wound, _ he thought. _But if it was a stabbing, we would have noticed an attacker and they would have been close enough to kill her instead of leaving her for dead… he_ shook his head. _"Wake up, lady and tell us what happened to you…"_

Sáranésa jumped from the rope ladder and almost tripped over a black bundle at the base of the tree. Hurriedly she came to where her mentor was kneeling and handed him a water skin.

A few moments later Arintiris landed silently on the forest floor, dropped something and joined them in doctoring the wounded maid. _"She has lost much blood. We must get her to the city where they have more skill. Can you carry her on horseback?"_

Cyermanto looked up and nodded just as an awkward young woman in a familiar brown cloak landed at the foot of the tree, shouldered the pack she found there and turned to stare at the group to her right. All of them heard her gasp.

"Aria!" she breathed and lunged in their direction. Arintiris shifted over to give her room next to the unconscious girl and she fell to her knees beside him. "Aria!" she said again, tenderly brushing the stray hairs from the wounded one's face. "What happened to you?" she whispered as fresh tears began forming in her eyes.

None of the Elves could understand what she said, but all of them could read the grief and concern in her face as she continued to stroke Aria's dark hair. At one point she bent forward to rest her cheek on the maid's forehead; a silver medallion slipped out of the folds of her cloak and chimed when it struck the one that rested on her friend's chest; Aria stirred as though it had shocked her. The Elves looked at each other quizzically.

oOo

A group of Elves on horseback pulled up next to the tree just as Arintiris had finished securing Aria onto the horse in front of Cyermanto. The dead body was already strapped to the back of Sáranésa's horse and everyone else was mounted except for Amy and himself. With quick words he addressed the blond leader, filling him in on the situation and turning over the guard for that section of the forest to his care. In three strides Arintiris was at his horse and mounted; in one fluid motion reached down, grabbed Amy, and swung her up behind him. She instinctively encircled his waist with her arms and firmly clamped her hands together. Arintiris surveyed the mounted group quickly and then nodded to the new arrivals before nudging his horse into motion.

"God, what is going on here?" Amy whispered into the folds of Arintiris' cloak. "It was supposed to be a birthday party and then this guy shows up with a gun, makes us pack for a trip and shoves us into a whirling vortex while some other guy shot at us through the door! Happy Birthday, Amy; how about a trip to Tolkien Central? Okay, so I've wanted to visit a place like this for the longest time, but I never wanted my best friend to get hurt and I definitely never wanted to watch someone die!... Oh, God! I just watched someone die!"

oOo

_"Beriol!"_ Aria whispered, eyes closed, as she stirred in Cyermanto's arms.

_"Ah, the lady lives."_ He said softly.

_"My Protector—" _she called again. _"Where have you gone?"_

_"Whom do you seek, lady?"_

_"Speak to me! Do you not know your Árenne?"_

_"Is that your name, lady? Árenne?"_

Aria's head tilted, as though she had heard something, and then he felt her stiffen. _"No! I won't go without my heart! Beriol, answer me!"_

_"Do you hear the call of Mandos, lady?"_ Cyermanto was getting worried about the condition of the strange, elvish-speaking woman in his arms. Leaning forward he urged the galloping horse into a flat out run.

**Glossary**

"_Thenid, híril, noho min in Rynd Mandos, hi. Noho band min Valinor, ah in Valar."_ (Sindarin) "Truly, Lady, be-he in the Halls of Mandos, now. Be-he safe in Valinor, with the Valar."

"_Glennolen na herdir Elrond a narolen in bragiha. En gwanwen noho tangadad en tíras pedolín. Herdir Elrond—"_ (S) "Go-you to Master Elrond and tell-you the sudden happenings. The dead one be-he to establish the rightness of your speech. Master Elrond—"

"_Peredhel"_ (S) "Half-Elven"

"_Istoch Elrond?"_ (S) "Know-you (of) Elrond?"

_Imladris_ (S) "ravine-valley." Haven of Elrond, called 'Karningul' in Westron, translated as 'Rivendell' in English.

"_Edhelen?" _ (S) "Elvish?"

"_Pedin i lam edhellen. Man eneth lîn?"_ (S) "I speak the Elven language. What is your name?"

"_A le?"_ (S) "And you?"

"_Man hi?"_ (S) "What now?"

"_Cón Arintiris, baur le cerim. Cyermanto garoho amro bo i talav harn inu."_ (S) "Captain Arintiris, need you do-we. Cyermanto has-he down on the ground (a) wounded female."

"_Nalloch an in rych. Nalloch an in loeb gwith. Lendom ni hobas!"_ (S) "Call-you for the horses. Call-you for the fresh troops. Journey-we to the haven!"

A/N:

Hmm… The plot thickens… flour works wonders, you know… now for a bit of salt… Mmmm, plot…

So, what do you think is going to happen next? Questions? Comments? Blatant errors in need of fixing? General boredom you would like to relieve by reviewing?

Speaking of reviews, THANK YOU to **Rorimac** and **Crecy** for their reviews last chapter! Yea-ness!

Iell Eruo

**A/N II:**

Due to ongoing research the following change was made: Arien - Árenne.


	5. The First Homely House

Ahem.

Once upon a time, in a far away land, there was an Authoress. This girl was involved in way too many things at once and still decided to begin posting chapters of a story that she wrote. The whole story didn't belong to her, because she set it in a world created by another Genius Person named J.R.R. Tolkien, but the parts that nobody recognized belonged to her. One Saturday, as the Authoress was getting ready to post her next chapter, she was carried off by those things that she had promised to do and was held hostage for an entire week until her duties were fulfilled. When she was finally released, the Authoress crawled back to her computer and pushed the send button before collapsing into exhaustion, an apology on her lips. And her faithful readers did not throw mushy things at her to disturb her sleep, for which she was forever grateful.

The End.

Oh, yeah, this might come in handy:

"English speech."

_Thoughts, any language. _

"_Elvish speech (specifically, Sindarin)."_

The Beginning. Or is it the middle, now? I forget… huh….

The Story.

**Chapter 5 – The First Homely House**

"Please, let Aria get through this all right! I don't think I can handle being here alone… Let them know how to heal her, God. You are the ultimate Healer; please guide their hands and decisions. Please give Aria the strength to pull through…"

Arintiris felt Amy's grip tighten as she began sobbing into his back. He couldn't figure her out and he didn't know what he would say to Elrond when they arrived in the haven. _Oh, yes, I can see it now: 'Lord Elrond, a sudden wind came up out of the west. It dropped off three strangely dressed people on the banks of the river. The first is dead, the second is wounded and needs your skills, and the third grieves deeply over the condition of the others. She does not speak the common language but has an odd-looking book that tells her our own. Here you go.' He is going to think that I am insane! _

Cyermanto's horse passed them just then and Arintiris noticed the grim look on his friend's face. _Maybe I will not have to say anything at all, _ he thought and whispered for the horse to run faster.

oOo

Arwen came to stand beside her father, Elrond Peredhel on the steps of their grand house and followed his gaze over the treetops to the west. She carried a tray of medical supplies but managed to elbow him in the ribs without dropping anything. _"What is wrong, Father?"_

"_Something is happening on the Western border. We heard the call for changing the guard, but it is hours ahead of schedule. It is best to be prepared for anything."_

_"No, I meant with you. You seem… more reserved than usual."_

_"It is your imagination, child."_

_"Then why are your fingers suddenly very fidgety?"_

Elrond looked down into her earnest face and gave a small smile. _"I can never hide these things from you, can I?"_ He returned his gaze to the west. "_The days grow darker of late and yet there is a light in the west. Our time is almost over and events are beginning to move faster. I cannot tell what it means for us, for our people; that is what worries me."_

_"Oh, Father,"_ she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder.

oOo

The whole group was galloping at top speed down the road, into the heart of Imladris. When they rounded a corner and came into view of the city itself, Cyermanto's mount, sensing that they end was near, found his reserves and pulled ahead of the pack once more.

oOo

Elladan was just leading his mount out of the stables when a lone horse came running into the square. Thoroughly winded, it came to a halt at the foot of the stairs where Elrond and Arwen waited. Elladan dropped the reins and rushed over to assist the rider who was supporting a limp figure in a brown cloak. Cyermanto gently lowered the injured girl into his waiting arms before dismounting himself. The rest of the group pounded into the courtyard then and also dismounted. Sáranésa and another strange girl in a brown cloak moved toward the stairs where Cyermanto had paused to bow before Elrond before following the younger Peredhil into the house.

Arintiris turned to the other elves under his command. _"Take care of the horses and the body, and then come find us."_ When they nodded he rushed to follow the women up the stairs.

_"Who is she?"_ Elrond asked as his son and daughter rushed down the hallway to a prepared room.

Cyermanto glanced back at the ladies and Arintiris hurrying behind them and then looked at the Master of Rivendell. _"Which one?"_

_"Both."_

_"Well, I am not sure of either. You will have to ask Arintiris about the other one, who called this one 'Aria.' On the way this one was talking to someone in her delirium. She called for someone named 'Beriol' and I think she referred to herself as 'Árenne'."_

Arintiris heard Amy gasp when his friend mentioned the names 'Aria,' 'Beriol' and 'Árenne.' Her hand went to the medallion around her neck and she strained to catch other familiar words as Cyermanto continued.

_"I don't know who she is, though. We found her in the grass on the eastern edge of the Fords a little while after the great wind."_

_"What great wind?"_ Elrond laid a hand on his arm.

Cyermanto looked puzzled. _"The one that appeared out of nowhere. No clouds or any kind of warning, just a great blast of wind from the direction of the plains and then nothing. A little while later Sáranésa and I found her."_ He pointed to Aria whom Elladan had just lain face-down on the bed in the room that Arwen had indicated.

An unreadable look passed over Elrond's face before he motioned for everyone to step back. Sáranésa dropped the backpack just inside the door and then joined Cyermanto in the corridor; Amy also dropped her pack, but refused to leave the room. Arintiris stationed himself behind her where she stood at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around herself, lips moving but no sound coming out.

Arwen glanced at them with curiosity once before placing herself opposite of Elrond and turning her full attention to the task at hand. Removing Aria's cloak, sweater, and tee-shirt she exposed the wound and began to examine it. Taking an instrument from the tray she explored it and then gently removed an odd metal fragment. Elrond was ready with a bottle of greenish liquid to pour on the wound and then packed it with a poultice that he had just assembled before Arwen bandaged it all up. Together they turned her over and Arwen began cleaning her face while Elrond mixed up another concoction which he proceeded to force down her throat.

_"Now we wait."_ he said, turning to the figures behind him.

_"She does not understand you, my lord."_

Elrond narrowed his eyes for a second, studying the tear-streaked face of the girl before looking at the elf behind her. _"Cyermanto just said that the other spoke to him on the journey."_

_"That is possible, my lord, but this one does not know the common speech. She speaks a language I have never heard before and has a strange book that translates between it and ours. She did seem familiar with your name and the ones that Cyermanto mentioned in the corridor. She even mentioned Imladris before realizing that she had a way to understand us. I do not think that she even knew where she was before then."_

Amy had been totally focused on Aria's pale features, but she started when the elf behind her said the word 'Imladris' in his explanation. Blinking, she glanced at the elf standing next to the bed. _"Imladris,"_ she repeated, _"Elrond Peredhel."_

Both elves noticed her reaction and locked eyes for a second before Elrond looked down at the girl. _"Im Elrond."_ He said, pointing to himself. The girl's eyes went wide and several emotions passed over her face in quick succession. After a long moment where the Lord of Imladris found himself under her intense scrutiny, he felt vaguely relieved and somewhat disturbed when she finally nodded slowly and spoke softly.

"Amy," she laid a hand on her chest. "Amy van Deruo."

_"Vanderuo?"_ Elrond was startled. Arwen's hands stilled and she glanced up at her father's face. Concerned, she studied the girl that had actually startled her father into silence. Biting back a grin she took in the tear-streaked face peaking out of a brown hooded cloak; the girl barely topped the shoulders of either ellon and yet in one introduction she had their undivided attention.

_"What a strange young elf, to have silenced even the lord Elrond…"_ she said, noting the identical medallions around both girls' necks. _"Strange, unknown elves who carry the stars with them."_

_"Perhaps we should take this to the library?"_ Elrond suggested, glancing at his daughter. _"I need to look something up. I do not think this one will leave without her friend, Arwen, so watch over both of them. We will return later. Send for me if there is any change."_

_"Yes, Father."_

_"Come, Arintiris," _Elrond took him by the arm and they walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. "_Tell me everything that happened out there."_

**Glossary**

"_Peredhel"_ (Sindarin) "Half-Elven"

"_Im Elrond."_ (S) "I (am) Elrond."

"_Ellon"_ (S) "male Elf"

**A/N:**

Sooo… You aren't going to throw things are you? I mean, I tried, I really did… If all is forgiven, you will be happy to note that the plot bunnies, excuse me, the 'Persistent Little Boogers' were hard at work, driving me up the wall with ideas that I jotted down before being forced back to work. Yesss, precioussss, they gave us ideas they did. Twisty and turny the plot will become. Tricksy bunnieses.

Gollum, Gollum Ahem.

Sorry about that.

Anyways. Thanks to **SilverGreeneye** and **Crecy** for reviewing. I had kept the translations to the bottom of the chapter because Amy could not understand what was being said and I felt that it would add to that feeling of isolation. I do hope to continue using Elvish in my story, not just the italicized conversations, but it will be in smaller bites and (soon) be translated through her wordlists immediately after being spoken. I hope this is not confusing for anyone. If artistic license gets in the way of comprehension, by all means, let me know…

Or, if you like it the way it is, let me know…

_Or_, if you have no opinion either way, let me know…

"Okay, I love you, bye, bye!" --Mindy, _Animaniacs_

Er, yeah…

Iell Eruo

**A/N II:**

Due to ongoing research the following change was made: Arien - Árenne.


	6. En Quendi lá sintë

**Disclaimer:**

The dream continues, I don't know if that is a good thing or not, but I still don't own Tolkien's genius-ness… sigh

Oh, yeah, this might come in handy:

"English speech."

_Thoughts, any language._

"_Elvish speech (specifically, Sindarin)."_

**Chapter 6 – Quendi lá sintë**

"_Amy?"_

The girl nodded.

"_Im Arwen."_

"_Undomiel!"_ the girl murmured, attempting a clumsy curtsey.

Arwen bowed her head gracefully and motioned for the girl to take Elrond's place by the bed. She was rewarded with a shy smile. _A strange Elf indeed, to know what my people call me even when she does not speak our language…_

Lifting her hood and throwing it backwards, Amy moved forward to sit on the edge of the bed. _Or not an Elf…the mystery deepens. _Arwen mused, handing Amy the wet cloth to finish washing her friend's face and sitting back to study her now obviously human companion. At first glance, Amy's hair was brown, but when she bent near the window the setting sun bounced off of her natural blond highlights. Since it was pulled back into a braid under her cloak, Arwen couldn't judge its length, but the stubborn strands that fell forward were long enough to rest on her chin until they were eventually tucked behind her ears.

Satisfied that the stranger was totally occupied with her task, Arwen got up and walked over to a trunk by the fireplace. Sorting through the contents she selected a scoop-neck nightgown and then repacked the trunk. _"An i meldis cín?" _she asked, holding up the gown and pointing to the girl on the bed.

Amy hesitated, nodded, and laid aside the cloth. Between them both Amy and Arwen managed to strip Aria of her bloody clothes, wash her off, and change her into the clean shift. Arwen took a moment to examine the strange garments before dropping them in a basket to be washed. Besides the sweater and short sleeved tunic from earlier there were some thick blue leggings, boots and socks. They left her underclothes intact for modesty's sake and propped her up on pillows after she was dressed. Throughout it all Aria never woke and Arwen was beginning to get a little worried. The wound was looking angry now, hot to the touch and yet the girl was beginning to shiver a bit.

"She's going into shock!" Amy said, reaching for the blanket that was draped on the foot of the bed. Arwen leaned forward and felt Aria's forehead with the back of her hand. Amy saw the look of concern in her eyes before she rushed out of the room.

oOo

_En Quendi lá sintë_

_New songs will be heard by the stars _

_When the strange quendi come_

_Dressed in different clothes _

_Speaking an unknown tongue_

_Sent by the will of the Father they come_

_Bearing the Crown of Promise_

_Harboring the Holy Flame_

_When Eä is clothed in darkness_

_The shadows will not quench the Flame_

_When the Children take their stand_

_United in their love of peace_

_And hatred of oppressive hands_

_All powers will tremble before _

_The Promise of God, His own Word_

_The gift of the Father, not yet revealed_

_Shall speak in the shadows and in light be heard_

_Then will the Children sing_

_And all creation will rejoice_

_As fire consumes the shadow land_

_United they will lift one voice_

_New songs will be sung on earth_

_The stars themselves will music raise_

_And round the world in Valinor_

_The Promised One is crowned with praise_

Elrond laid the dusty scroll on his desk and looked up at the Elves standing on the other side.

"_Well, what do you think?"_ he asked after a moment of silence.

"_They are strange, Father, but not all of them are elves…"_ Elladan said slowly.

"_True."_ Elrond turned to the patrol-Elves.

"_The times are dark, my lord." _Sáranésa ventured.

"_But we have no evidence of a crown or any indication of who this 'Promised One' may be."_ Cyermanto amended, glancing down at her.

"_Yet… yet the girl's name gave you pause, my lord. What was the reason, if I may ask…?"_ Arintiris' keen eyes were steady as they caught Elrond's.

"_In Quenya, 'Vanderuo' means 'Promise of God.' That and my daughter's observations about them being 'strange, unknown elves' made me think of this text."_ He took a moment to glance at the parchment before speaking again. _"I understand your reservations, Elladan, but do you recall the full meaning of the word 'quendi'?" _When his son shrugged, Elrond continued. _"Quendi is the Eldar word for all Elves, but its literal meaning is 'those that speak with voices.' If we allow for this interpretation, 'Quendi lá sintë' does indeed describe this group. The question now is what to do with them…"_

Everyone glanced down at the scroll thoughtfully and once again only the fire's crackles filled the air with sound.

"_Perhaps it would be best to inform Lothlórian, the Havens and Mirkwood before deciding on a course of action. It did say 'When the Children take their stand,' did it not? Then let all of the Children of God decide together what to do."_

Elrond smiled. _"Your plan is acceptable to me, my son. If you draft the messages –"_

A persistent knock sounded at the door, startling everyone in the room.

"_Enter!"_ Elrond called.

"_Forgive me, my lord,"_ the servant bowed, _"but the Lady Arwen sent me to fetch you. The wounded one has caught a chill."_

Elrond dropped some parchments on his desk and hurried for the door, followed closely by Arintiris and the servant who shut the door as he left. Elladan walked around behind the desk and began sorting the parchments his father had left behind.

"_If you do not mind, sir,"_ Cyermanto interrupted, _"I would like to get another look at the dead one. Perhaps we may still learn something useful from him."_

"_Granted; let me know what you find."_ Elladan smiled grimly and then looked back down to his task. Cyermanto and Sáranésa bowed before silently withdrawing from the room.

oOo

"_Bring in more wood; stoke the fire."_ Elrond ordered as he slipped into the sick-room, Arintiris on his heels; the third Elf ran to do his bidding. Arwen glanced back from where she stood shutting the heavy, velvet curtains and looked relieved. Amy was unfolding another blanket to lay on her friend and didn't turn around until she was done. Arintiris was struck by her deft actions; knowing that she couldn't understand what was being said and yet she was never in anyone's way, caring for her friend as though she had always been a part of this group.

Amy felt his eyes and turned to face him. "My mom's a nurse." she shrugged. "We all had to learn First Aid and a little more…"

Arintiris had this odd feeling that she had just answered his unspoken question, but he didn't say anything so she moved back to stand by the wall and stroke her friend's hair while Elrond and Arwen turned her over to change the bandage.

The wound was worse than before, dark red with purple fingers radiating from the center.

"It was poisoned wasn't it?" Amy's question was more like a statement. Elrond glanced at her face when he stood up to get more medicines. She had a far-away look as though remembering something. He saw the moment that recognition flashed across her strained features and she reached under her cloak to carefully pull out a long knife. It was definitely Elf-made, but Elrond had resolved to stop being surprised by anything she did anymore. Cradling it with awe she whispered, "It was glowing! They were both glowing when the arm came through the door… we were attacked by… orcs?"

"_Orch?"_ Elrond echoed thoughtfully. _Yes, that would explain it… _ His fingers stilled and then he reached for a different bunch of herbs.

oOo

Throughout the night Aria alternated between chills and a raging fever; always Amy was there to pull the blankets higher or wipe her face with a cool cloth. Elrond finally sent his daughter out to get some sleep around dawn when the girl stabilized, but Arintiris refused to leave his post by the door.

oOo

An entire day passed with no change. Elrond left for a while when Arwen returned with food mid-morning. Amy forced herself to eat a piece of fruit, but didn't have the heart to take more. She finally fell asleep in the early afternoon; sitting on the floor with elbows resting on the edge of the bed, one hand clasping Aria's, forehead cradled in her arm. Arwen heard her soft snores and turned to see the stone-faced Elf by the door step forward and drape the long-discarded cape around Amy's shoulders. He looked up into her eyes for a second and then turned to resume his self-appointed watch.

oOo

Amy awoke with a start. It was just before sun-down and the curtains had been parted, bathing the room in a soft pink glow. Cramped from staying so long in an odd position, Amy stretched her arms and was surprised to feel something warm fall from her shoulders. She turned to look at the floor behind her: it was her cloak. _Odd, I don't remember putting it on…_ she mused, glancing around. Elrond sat in a chair by the fireplace, a vacant look on his face, and that one guy stood by the door with the same un-seeing eyes. _Weird,_ she thought.

Pushing herself back from the bed, Amy slowly stood up and walked over to the window. A fresh breeze greeted her, playing with the tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid earlier. She smiled and leaned against the window frame drinking in the golden sunset, not noticing when Arwen slipped back into the room. After a while the stars came out and her hand absently came up to touch the medallion around her neck.

"How much younger everything feels." She said quietly. "I know that it has been here for thousands of years, and yet it seems so much newer than what I am used to seeing. How many stars there are! I never knew you could fit so many up there," she marveled. "What a mighty God you must be to think up such things and then cause them to be just by speaking… or singing… That's all you would have to do, you know: speak and she would be better…" Amy continued to stare at the night sky and play with the medallion. Her heart was so melancholy over Aria's condition and yet she couldn't help but feel joyful over the natural beauty laid out before her eyes. As these feelings warred within her a haunting tune came to her mind and before long she was humming it.

oOo

Arintiris blinked and awoke abruptly from his rest. He had been dreaming about a beautiful garden where a shadow had fallen and all of the candles that he lit were snuffed out as soon as he had passed. Then from the west a light had appeared; it seemed to approach him, getting brighter, and all of the candles spontaneously burst into flame. The garden seemed to sing when the light touched it and the shadow vanished away to the east.

Arintiris shook his head to clear it; when he had first opened his eyes he had thought that Amy was the source of the light, but now she looked the same as she had before. She was over by the window, playing with her medallion and humming a strange tune that seemed to tug at his heart. He glanced over to Arwen and the invalid; Aria was beginning to stir.

oOo

Elrond was jolted back from his dreams to find Arwen shaking his arm. _"Father, look!"_ she breathed and he turned to see what she was talking about.

The melody had grown until it filled the room and finally Amy could not keep the words back any longer. None of the Elves could understand her words, but they followed the intensity of her voice as she sang the solemn, stately hymn out into the starry night.

"O come, O come, Emmanuel  
And ransom captive Israel  
That mourns in lonely exile here  
Until the Son of God appear  
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel  
Shall come to thee, O Israel."

When she got to the chorus, the trees by the window seemed to lift their branches up a little higher out of joy. Oblivious, Amy continued to sing; the Elves just stared.

"O come, Thou Day-star, come and cheer  
Our spirits by Thine advent here  
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night  
And death's dark shadows put to flight.  
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel  
Shall come to thee, O Israel."

Arwen glanced down at Aria and watched in fascination as color began to creep back into her face. In a matter of moments she went from pale illness to a peaceful sleep-like countenance.

"O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free  
Thine own from Satan's tyranny  
From depths of Hell Thy people save  
And give them victory o'er the grave  
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel  
Shall come to thee, O Israel."

Aria's eyes began to flutter and her head turned in the direction of the music.

"O come, Thou Key of David, come,  
And open wide our heavenly home;  
Make safe the way that leads to Thee,  
And close the path to misery.  
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel  
Shall come to thee, O Israel."

"Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Has come to thee, O Israel!"

Aria opened her eyes and saw Amy standing by the window. "Emmanuel," she echoed, "Has come to thee, O Israel!"

Amy heard the second voice blend with hers in perfect harmony and turned to find Aria smiling at her from across the room. With a cry of joy she fell onto the bed and wrapped her friend in a fierce hug. "Thank God! You're alive!"

"I just had the weirdest dream—"

"You don't know how worried I was—"

"You'll never believe—"

"It's been two days—"

"I thought we'd gone to—"

"But the Elves—"

"And a gun—" It took Aria a moment to register what Amy had said and when it did, they just stared at each other in silence. "What Elves?" she finally whispered.

"I don't know how, but we are in Rivendell, Aria… Do you remember what happened at my house?" Aria hesitated and then nodded. Amy continued, "You were shot by an orc! That vortex thing dropped us off outside the forest and the Elves brought us here. We almost lost you…"

"_Beriol!"_ Aria gasped, staring off into space for a second. Blinking, she gripped Amy's arm tightly and searched her eyes intently. "Amy! Think carefully: what happened to the man that was in your closet?" Tears filled Amy's eyes and Aria's heart sank.

"He didn't make it."

Aria's eyes closed in grief and several tears raced down her cheeks. When she opened them again she noticed the golden firelight reflecting off of the medallion around Amy's neck and reached for it. Turning it over, she lovingly traced the tengwar letters as if memorizing them. Elrond saw that they spelled 'Beriol,' the name of the dead Elf, and began putting pieces together in his mind.

"Do you want it back?" Amy asked hesitantly, reaching for the chain.

"No… he gave it to you, it is yours." And with that the pendant began to glow a bright silvery-white; when it faded the letters were changed to read 'Vanderuo' instead.

"What did you do?" Amy breathed, staring at it.

"Nothing. I did nothing." Aria said flatly, dropping it and looking away in pain. For the first time she noticed the other people in the room and did a double-take. A man with long black hair sat in a chair by the fire, a dark-haired woman knelt by his feet and another, dark-haired man stood by the door; all staring at the two girls on the bed. "Amy… what are they doing here?" Aria asked, not breaking eye contact with the woman.

"Aria, don't freak out, but this is Lord Elrond and his daughter Arwen. I didn't catch the other one's name, but they have all been here with me for the last few days trying to keep you alive." Sensing the introduction the Elves came forward to stand at the foot of the bed.

"_Mae govannan."_ Aria said smoothly. _"Im… Árenne. Hannon lín an i mana lín ceriannel an ammen hin methen aurin. Ammen baur garo athrabeth nia nom sí. Menui, aníron tirio herven nin."_

Amy's jaw dropped and she almost fell backwards off of the bed. Aria, eyes locked with Elrond's, reached out, grabbed her collar and pulled her back up. In less than a second.

**Glossary**

"_An i meldis cín?"_ (S) lit. "For the friend (of) yours?"

_En Quendi lá sintë_ (S) lit. "The strange/unknown Elves (ones who speak with voices)" -**a/n** 'tis mine own work, ask first iffin you wants ta use it, 'k?-

_Eä _ (Q) the created world

_Valinor_ (?) the Undying Lands where the Vala live.

_Lothlórian_ (?) the home of Galadriel and Celeborn, lit. 'the golden wood'

_Mirkwood_ (?) the home of the dark elves who did not go to the Undying Lands

_Orch_ (S) lit. "orc", plural form is _"yrch"_

"_Mae govannan."_ (S) lit. "Well met."

"_Im Árenne."_ (S) lit. "I (am) Arien."

"_Hannon lín an i mana lín ceriannel an ammen hin methen aurin. Ammen baur garo athrabeth nia nom sí. Menui, aníron tirio herven nin."_ (S) lit. "Thank-I you (pl.) for that which you (pl.) have done for us these last days. We need to have (a) discussion about our being here. First, I desire to look at my husband."

**O Come, O Come, Emmanuel**

_9th century Latin Hymn VENI EMMANUEL, translated by John M. Neale and Henry S. Coffin_

**A/N:**

So before you burst a blood vessel telling me that I can't use song lyrics on FFN, I'll have you know that I looked up Public Domain Law and O Come, O Come Emmanuel is most definitely part of the Public Domain. It has no author to claim it, seeing as whoever wrote it has been dead since the 800's AD… As do the majority of our traditional Christmas songs, by the way. Yup… Things have the potential to get, interesting, in the next few chapters or so. hee hee hee

Still, I am curious as you your other responses. I know it has been a very long time between posts but if I can quote Ellfine "Real life has been a bear lately and I was mauled by it…" I'm sure you all know how that goes.

Happy Summer Peoples!

Iell Eruo

**A/N II:**

Due to ongoing research the following change was made: Arien - Árenne.


	7. Interrogation

**A/N:**

Dear Reviewers of the Previous Chapter,

Thank you, Thank you, Thank YOU, No, Yes, Maybe, and Funny-you-should-mention-that, respectively. I am glad that you enjoy my story (I kind of like it, too…) but I feel that I must state for the record that I still don't own Tolkien's genius-ness. I hinted and I hinted but all I got for my birthday was a jewelry box. (Thank you Dad!) Eh. I'm not complaining: it **is** shiny… it's just not **the** shiny…

Oh, yeah, this might still come in handy:

"English speech."

_Thoughts, any language._

"_Elvish speech (specifically, Sindarin)."_

**Chapter 7 – Interrogation**

The elves of Rivendell had wept as they washed the body of their fallen brother. Not knowing who he was had not lessened the impact of seeing his unnaturally pale face and touching his cold hands. Carefully they had mended his strange black clothes and re-dressed him to be laid out in a warrior's splendor before burial. It was odd that they only found empty sheaths on him, warriors are only parted from their weapons in dire circumstances; this and knowing the condition of the elleth made the Rivendell Elves love him more. And so the weaponless stranger was being accorded full military honors for his funeral, all that was missing was the presence of his friends and family.

oOo

Arintiris gently carried Aria down the cool hallway to the room where Beriol had been laid out for the funeral that night. Amy followed with her binder, skimming the pages quickly until she found the word that she searched for and came to a dead halt. Arwen and Elrond would have bumped into her if they had not heard her small gasp and stopped as well.

"_Herven nin,"_ they heard her whisper, "my husband…" She stood there for a moment, staring at Arintiris' form moving quietly down the hallway, as the fear of the last two days and nights came back and slammed her full-force in the chest. With the gasp of someone who has just been socked in the gut, she dropped her binder and collapsed to the floor. For the first time since arriving, Amy gave in to the tears.

"_Stop!"_ Aria said urgently, tightening her grip around Arintiris' neck, but it wasn't necessary; he had also heard the binder hit the polished floor and the sobs echoing down the corridor. Turning quickly they both saw Amy curled into a ball with Arwen kneeling behind her, gently stroking her head in comfort. Elrond saw heads poking out of various doorways and decided to get them somewhere private. Scooping her up, he ducked down a side hallway and into an empty guest room. Arwen gathered the notebook and followed with Arintiris and Aria close behind. _"What happened?"_ Aria demanded when Elrond straightened and stepped back from the bed.

"_She was looking in her book,"_ Arwen offered, placing it on the table by the bed. Then she sat on the edge to continue consoling Amy. _"She found what she was looking for, I suppose. I heard her whisper, 'Herven nin' and something like 'maehausbend', and then she collapsed. Why would that phrase give her so much grief, I wonder?"_ she looked pointedly at Aria who bit her lip and looked down at the bed.

"_Yes, I think it is time for you to tell us about yourself and this strange friend of yours."_ Elrond said sternly, pulling a high-backed chair from the fireplace over to the bed and gesturing for Arintiris to put her in it. When she was settled Elrond pulled up his own chair and Arintiris sat on the foot of the bed.

"_I don't know where to begin…"_

"_Then start with today and work your way back."_ Arwen offered.

"_That seems reasonable. What—what is the date?"_

"_Why, June 22 I think."_

"_No, no, I mean the year, the Age!"_

"_3018, of the Third Age."_ Elrond said with some hesitation.

"_Then this really is Imladris? We are still in Amar?"_ Aria asked, astonished.

"_Still? Yes... Where else did you think you were?"_ he leaned forward, noting her pale features. Her eyes were quickly shifting back and forth across the wall behind him as if she were reading something he couldn't see; her mouth dropped open for a second and then she blinked before looking back at him.

"_I—I had thought that they had taken us to a safe haven or even back to Valinor! But I should have known better…" _Aria glanced up at Arwen and then quickly over to Amy who had finally cried herself to sleep. _"I don't know of any mortals who have been allowed to walk those shores… Still, I had hoped… But to bring us so far back and leave us in **this** peril is worse than I ever thought them capable of!"_

"_Who, dear?"_ Arwen asked gently.

"_The Valar!"_ Aria closed her eyes in grief and gripped the arms of her chair until her fingers turned white and her arms began to shake with the effort. Arintiris began wondering about her mental faculties being intact; Elrond patted her hand.

"_I think perhaps you should start at the beginning, then, for I am as confused as you seem to be."_

Aria nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek when she opened her eyes to look at his. She turned her gaze to her sleeping friend and tried to gather her thoughts. The implications of their revelations blew her mind! _Time travel? How could this affect the future? Dear God! What am I allowed to say? What am I supposed to do!_ She looked as scattered as she felt, but she turned to meet each of their eyes before beginning her tale.

oOo

"Wake up, vile Elf!" an ugly voice spat and a blow landed on Mr. Edward Williams' face. He blinked into the bright lights of the small room and immediately felt cords biting into his limbs, anchoring him to the wooden chair. His head hurt and there was a constant fiery throb in his left side. A low moan passed his lips before he could call it back and the ugly voice laughed, "So, you are alive! Good! You will soon wish you weren't."

oOo

"_My name, as you know, is Árenne and I was born in Valinor."_

"_You are an exile, then?"_ Arwen ventured.

"_No."_ Aria stated firmly. _"I was sent on a quest of sorts. There were 12 of us and we had the blessings of the Valar."_ She held up her pendant. _"We were sent to a distant place with a mission, a task, and we are not allowed to return until it is complete."_

"_What kind of task?"_ Arintiris asked, skeptically. _"Why could the Valar not see to it themselves? Why send Elves?"_

"_The Valar have long since sworn not to intrude again in the affairs of Ilúvatar's children in Amar."_ She caught Elrond's eye and he quirked an eyebrow. _"They could not step foot here without severely limiting themselves and becoming vulnerable to temptation. Besides, the land we were sent to is only populated by men who have no knowledge of Elves or even the Valar. With the aid of these medallions it was easier for us to blend in than it would have been for them and they wanted to see the mission complete with as little fuss as possible."_

"_That still does not answer my question."_

"_I cannot tell you much about it. We were supposed to deliver something valuable to someone important. But the timing was not right. We have been waiting a very long time for him to return so that we could complete our task. Lately we have just been trying to keep the thing from falling into the wrong hands."_

oOo

"What do you want?" Edward demanded, gritting his teeth at the pain in his side. The voice laughed somewhere behind the light.

"The crown of course! Didn't think we knew about it did you? But that's right; you _Eldar_," the word dragged out in a derogatory way, "are just the pawns of the stinking Valar… and we all know they are very good at keeping you in the dark, don't we?" The ugly laugh sounded again; it was beginning to get on Edward's nerves. He looked intently at the floor, trying to get his eyes accustomed to the light. The voice seemed to take this as a sign of submission and continued the speech. "We know you have it and if you would be so kind as to hand it over we will be going."

"First of all, I am in no position to _hand_ you anything and second, I deal in books, not jewelry. You might try the _pawn_ shop down the street if you are looking for something like that."

"Insolent Elf!" came the snarled reply and another blow landed on his face.

oOo

"_Whose hands?"_ Elrond queried, leaning forward.

"_The Dark One has always wanted what was meant for Ilúvatar. Even though the people have no knowledge of us, Ilúvatar has made Himself known to them. His promise to Remake Eä is known there and many prophets have predicted that a Promised One will come with the Eternal Flame to fulfill that promise."_

Elrond glanced beyond her to the warrior sitting at the foot of the bed. They locked eyes for a moment and then turned their full attention back to Aria. _"I can appreciate that you may not be allowed to speak of some things, just as I am sure that you can appreciate that I must reserve my judgment of this story until I check on a few things, but you have yet to explain your presence here. Can you tell me how she comes into this?"_

oOo

Edward Williams licked his lips and tasted blood. "I don't know why you keep talking about elves… some things exist only in books." He noticed a shadow slightly to his right and stared at it until its shape began to form in his eyes and he recognized it.

"If you don't cooperate, you may be included in that list!" The voice hissed in response.

Edward sighed, "I'm listening."

"Good. We know you have the crown: give it to us."

"And then what?" he asked, a plan coming together in his mind. "I am tied up, alone, in a place I don't know. If I gave you this crown whatever-it-is, and I'm not saying I have it, mind you, what would become of me? I have no guarantee of safety from you and no reason to trust your word." His hands reached out behind the chair and grasped something thin and cold; he pulled it closer and with unperceivable movements began slicing the ropes that bound his wrists.

"I will give you something you can trust and leave you to make up your mind. I saw that girl that came to your shop at closing time. I had her followed. She went into a house on Bryant Avenue where she is alone with one other girl. It has been a long time since I have had the pleasure of entertaining such delectable guests, Elf, the choice is yours: the crown or the girls?" And suddenly it was pitch black and silent.

oOo

"_For 2,000 years we have wandered over the land"_ an odd look came into her eyes. _"Amar is larger than you would imagine. We have endured many things: wars, famines, floods, suspicions… but there was also joy; Beriol and I were married as were a few others… Around the time of the second Great War there was a man, a lover of languages, who had stumbled upon a manuscript of ancient history, but couldn't understand it because it was in our language… Since we had refused to become involved in the war itself, we had agreed to lend our skills as healers to the country where we dwelt. He, being in our care, overheard us speaking to each other in our own tongue and deciphered it for himself. _

"_That manuscript, that collection of historical events, he translated (with help, I think) and it was published as if it was a mere story! We wondered at the meaning of it all. Men of many countries and languages became aware once more of the old things that they had forgotten; of Elves and Dwarves and Halflings and Ents and Maiar and Valar and the Evil that caused these races to come together for war. Many read it, some learned it by heart, but few believed that it was actually true! She is one such…"_ Aria looked at her sleeping friend and smiled thinly. _"Mortal she may have been born, but I think she is an Elf at heart. Wise beyond her years at times and always singing… We have only known each other for a short while and yet it feels like forever!"_ she sighed.

oOo

Edward cut quickly and then his hands were free, then his torso, then his legs. By touch alone he navigated through his storage room and silently pulled open a cabinet, revealing a light blue glow. _Thank the Valar!_ He slipped the small knife into his boot and reached into the drawer for another weapon and another... Armed to the teeth he made his way back over to the door and, sword drawn, he waited.

Heavy feet sounded in the office. Things were being thrown around; they were actually tearing his desk apart. Finally there was a growl and the noise stilled. Heavy feet pounded their way to the door and Edward shut his eyes before the blinding lights came on again. The door swung open and the laugh sounded again.

"So, Elf—" but Edward had already jumped the figure from behind and held the blade to its throat.

"Shut the door!" he hissed, now in charge. The owner of the ugly voice did as Edward bid. "Now, sit down!" And it sat in the chair where Edward had recently been tied. Edward Williams stepped back to get a look at his former captor: a pale, heavyset man with evil eyes.

"You think you are so smart, Elf!" the ugly voice spat. "But you have only made things worse for yourself!"

"Shut up!" Edward pushed the tip of the blade into his throat. "This is my property and I will not have anyone speak to me that way. Now, take this," he kicked a roll of duct-tape over to the chair, "and tape your legs to the chair." The man glared at him and he moved the blade just enough to draw blood; the man reached for the tape and restrained his own legs. Edward directed him to restrain other body parts until all that remained free was the man's right arm, Edward taped it himself and stood over the man.

"If there was such a thing as a crown around here, no force on earth could induce me to give it to anyone but its rightful owner!" And he brought down the pommel of the sword on the man's head, knocking him out.

Sheathing the sword and snatching his greatcoat from the hook by the door, Edward climbed up to the window and out onto the ledge. Like his friend before, he crawled up onto the roof and made his way over rooftops and wires through the rain, desperate to get to a house on Bryant Avenue.

oOo

"_Lately the enemy has been gathering his forces together. We think he is trying to make one last bid for power. He knows about the. . . object we carry and has been trying to capture it for himself. We are so few now… It was decided that it would be safer if everyone stayed separate. Faereb runs a business in a central location and we would all stop in from time to time, keep in touch that way. _

"_You have to realize that things are very different in this place. People rely heavily on machinery to do things for them. Most have never even seen a farm much less made their own clothes or hunt or things that we must do here to survive. Those who take the trouble to learn, do so as a hobby of sorts or as part of a historical re-enactment. It can get depressing for us who are used to wild spaces and growing things to be surrounded by stone and metal and glass. _

"_It is very hard to get a decent job without some schooling. They have no concept of apprenticeship the way we think of it. Young people must attend some sort of college where they are taught math, science, philosophy, history, geography, languages, and machinery skills in the combination that they will need for the particular job field that they wish to pursue. That is how I met Amy, we were both studying the same subjects; we've been good friends for the last three years, but I've never told her about who I really am or any of this. She knows some of the Old Histories because of the translator, stories of the beginning of things, the Silmarils, of Thingol and Melian and the lineage of the Peredhil, the Last Alliance, and she knows of the threat that grows in the east… She has even been trying to teach herself to speak Sindarin, though God alone knows why!" _The sad smile melted away from Aria's face as she recalled the last things that she remembered before waking up in Imladris.

"_It was night, and raining."_ She whispered, reliving the events in her mind._ "I stopped by the bookstore on my way to Amy's birthday party. It was supposed to be a costume party and Faereb gave me the last pieces for mine… I arrived at Amy's house early; we were going to arrange each other's hair. We had just brought up some snacks to her room and found Beriol waiting for us in the closet; he was soaking wet. I had never seen him look so… desperate before. He made us pack our bags and get ready to leave. I know he wanted to get me out because I had… but we couldn't just leave Amy to face the dark ones alone… They were in the house then… Beriol blocked the door to the bedroom, but that left us no way out… He gave me back my medallion; I think I had accidentally left it with him the day before…"_ she blushed and looked at the floor, more tears spilling down her cheeks.

"_He gave Amy his own, I don't know why; he gave us both one of his knives, too… they had already started breaking down the door. They couldn't get through, but they could shoot at us through the cracks. The only thing I could think to do was to pray for a way out. We needed to get to safety! A haven! Anywhere but there! Suddenly there was a great burst of wind and this vortex formed next to us. He shoved Amy through and was about to push me through when everything went black..."_

"_Is that when you awoke here?"_ Arwen asked. Aria nodded slowly.

"_What happened with the medallion when you spoke to her then?"_

"_I honestly do not know. They were first given to us when we were sent on our quest; they somehow allowed us to blend in, so that the people around us would notice nothing out of the ordinary. When we swore to see the task finished our names appeared on them, just like that. If I had to guess, I would say that, somehow, Amy has taken—"_ Aria's voice cracked and she looked away.

"_She is being held to the oath in his stead?"_

"_He spoke to her before—it is possible that he may have extracted an oath from her."_ Arintiris supplied. _"Although I do not think she fully understands what that may entail."_

"_Thank you Árenne. I must think on this. Arwen will stay with you until I return."_ The ladies both nodded as the lord of Imladris rose and left the room followed closely by his captain. There was silence after the door clicked shut; Elrond was not the only one who needed time to think.

**Glossary**

_Amar_ (S) what the Elves call Earth

_Ilúvatar_ (Q) lit. "The One Father of All"; God; the Creator of the Ainur of whom some are counted Valar and some Maiar. Called _Eru_ in Sindarin.

**A/N:**

So… Does that answer some of those questions? Is it still mysterious or just plain confusing? Anything that needs more clarification? Did I mention that I like reviews? I like reviewers, too. I think in honor of this chapter breaking the 2-review mark (WOW) I shall now hand out pieces of my family's famous chocolate Thing. It is easy. Chocolate + chocolate + more chocolate in various states Thing. 'S good. Bring your own gallon of milk…

Iell Eruo

**A/N II:**

Due to ongoing research the following change was made: Arien - Árenne.


	8. Decisions

**Disclaimer:**

So… I'm a student… I own nothing… except various promissory notes… if you want the owner of the genius-ness go look up Tolkien and his progeny…

Oh, yeah, this might come in handy:

"English speech."

_Thoughts, any language. _

"_Elvish speech (specifically, Sindarin)."_

**Chapter 8 – Decisions**

Elrond was still awake when the sun rose, but he did not notice it. Scrolls and books from both his private collection and the Library were scattered across his desk and every other surface in his study. The new day dawned to find the Master of Imladris hunched over in his chair, rapidly shifting back and forth between various texts, comparing translations.

Arintiris, Erestor, and Glorfindel were kept busy sorting through their own extensive collections in search of anything that could be of use. Elladan and Cyermanto had taken over the defenses and technical aspects of running the haven. Elrohir, being delegated the personnel issues and generally running interference for his father and advisors, was the only one not present for the small council. By the time that breakfast was delivered to Elrond's study everyone in it was exhausted. It was silent while they thoughtfully ate the food and everybody seemed to zone out until Cyermanto ventured a question.

"_Have you come to any sort of decision this morning, my lord?"_

Elrond blinked and turned towards the expectant faces of his son and friends. _"From what we have gathered this night I believe that the lady speaks the truth, yet withholds some vital piece. She is correct about the Valar forswearing direct aid to those in Amar, and her words line up with several ancient prophesies regarding Ilúvatar's Promised One and the Holy Flame."_

"_But?"_ Cyermanto prompted.

"_Some things do not line up. I understand that she may have needed to be reminded of the year, but why the Age? She seemed quite… disturbed to learn the full date."_

"_That may be accounted for by simply remembering that she has been immersed in another culture completely for over 2,000 years, as she said." _Glorfindel noted, eyes distant._ "It may have left her internal calendar somewhat skewed and she just needs some time to adjust."_

"_She admitted that she has not told you the details of this quest."_ Erestor added.

"_If there is such a quest."_ Elladan said. Everyone turned to stare at him. _"What? All she has given you are a few vague references that can apply to any number of ancient prophecies. How do you know that she is not using you? They could be working for the Nameless One. You have no reason to trust them much less help them!"_

"_You have not met them, young one."_ Arintiris said softly. _"And of those assembled here, you are the least inclined to compassion. Each of us has endured pain during our long years, but you have allowed it to turn to bitterness in your heart."_ Everyone else noticed their liege lord's jaw clench._ "Do not let your quest for vengeance rob you of the ability to see the good in people and believe us when we tell you that there was no lie in her eyes."_

"_Perhaps if she comes to trust us she will eventually tell us the things that she has withheld." _Erestor proposed hesitantly. _"Even if she is a spy, would it not be better to keep her here so that she does not report what she may have learned? Either way we should do what we can to learn more of this strange elleth and her companion."_

"_I agree." _Elrond said. _­"It may be that they simply do not feel comfortable in our presence. Are there any suitably trained ellith that may guard the strangers?"_

"_Sáranéssa is capable, my lord."_ Arintiris offered.

Glorfindel looked over to Cyermanto. _"She is your charge. Is she able to do this task?"_

"_Yes, my lord."_

"_Then she will be briefed on her new assignment."_ Elrond stated. _"Arwen shall see to their lodging and recuperation. Elladan, have you drafted those letters yet?"_

"_Not completely, my lord."_

"_Then we shall add this new information to them and send them out as soon as possible. If they are who they say they are we are going to need wisdom beyond our own. If they are not, it will serve as a warning to the other realms. Is this acceptable to everyone?"_

The assembled Ellyn nodded their consent and the meeting was concluded. The older lords gathered their books and things before heading out, but Elrond held his son back. _"Send your sister to me before you finish that draft, would you?"_

"_Yes, Father."_

oOo

"_Is she going to be all right?"_ Aria finally asked, breaking the silence that had lasted all through the night and well past dawn.

"_Yes, it is only exhaustion; she has barely slept a few hours in the last couple of days. I imagine that she will wake soon and then you may have a chat. While we are waiting, allow me to take another look at your shoulder."_

Aria nodded and leaned forward so that Arwen could check under the bandage. Gently, so as not to cause discomfort, the lady of Imladris probed the wound with her fingers. _"Oh! If I had not known any better I would say that this injury is several months old; it has completely closed up with almost no scar! I should call for my father to come see this. He will be most interested. Do you mind if I step out for a moment?"_

"_No. I will be here, my lady."_

Arwen made no sound as she slipped from the room and Aria was left alone with Amy's sleeping form.

"What was going through your mind last night?" she murmured. "Did you really sit by my bed-side for the last three days? Yes, I think you would." Aria shifted in the chair and let her gaze wander out the window to where the trees were unfurling their new leaves. A breeze toyed with the sheer curtain, trying to follow the bright sunlight into the room. Drinking in the delicate arches and natural-looking peaks of the roof across the way, Aria had no doubts that she really was in Rivendell. Arwen's presence proved it to be the Rivendell of the Third Age and, according to their own words, it was just months before the War of the Ring began, but it was the 'why' that she couldn't figure out.

_Why would the Valar send a way out for Beriol and I, but not bring us home? Was it because he pushed Amy through the vortex and mortals were not allowed in the Undying Lands? No, that does not explain Tuor, Gimli and the hobbits. But even if that was the case, why not send us somewhere else in the same time period? Why were we dropped off in A—Elrond's haven almost 2,000 years before I was even born? **Over 6,000 years in the past?** It is almost time for the dangers to begin in earnest, if I remember my history correctly…_

And why, of all things, did they have to take her beloved from her at a time like this! A fresh wave of grief threatened to engulf her and she closed her eyes, choking back the hot salt tears. This was not how she had imagined her life! Sure, others had died during the Long Wait, but not one that she cared about so deeply… Beriol had been her rock, her protector, how was she to survive without him? Her heart felt hollow; it was as if her very soul had been torn from her and she was slowly bleeding to death somewhere on the inside…

oOo

"_So you have your orders?"_ Cyermanto asked his former charge.

"_Yes. I am to guard the strangers without appearing as a threat, learn as much about them as possible, and basically earn their trust."_

"_Good. Just remember: never let your guard down. They may not be what they seem."_

"_You do not agree with Lord Elrond's ruling in this matter?"_

"_I am simply cautious as you should be. These are perilous times."_

"_Yes, sir."_

"_Now, off with you. And do not forget to report back to me after dinner."_

"_I thought I was supposed to report directly to Lord Elrond?"_

"_I only wish to help you keep your post. How often do you make tactical presentations before the Master of Imladris?"_

"_Well, when you put it that way… shall we meet in your office?"_

"_Do not be late."_

oOo

Arwen entered the study to find her father staring at the gardens from the window-seat. A curious expression flit across his face before he looked up and saw his daughter in the doorway.

"_I just wanted to tell you that Árenne's wound is completely healed. It is the most extraordinary thing. Do you wish to see it?"_

"_Not at the moment, Arwen. I do wish to speak to you about our guests, though."_ He stood and walked over to where she was. _"Would you see to their comfort? We are not quite sure how to proceed in this situation. Perhaps they shall relax more in company that is… less threatening. I am placing them in your charge. Food and baths are in order, I think, and suitable clothes. I shall send someone in to help you…"_ he placed his hand on her arm as he passed. _"Just… keep an eye on them, will you?"_

She looked up into his face, trying to discern his thoughts. _"Yes, Father."_

oOo

The first thing that Amy noticed when she awoke was the sound. Or lack thereof. Still, it was raining rather hard the night before and that wasn't unusual if there had been a blackout after she had gone to sleep. She didn't want to open her eyes, though. She could almost see the remnants of her rather vivid dream and wanted to hold onto them as long as possible.

Aria noticed the change in the rhythm of Amy's breathing and leaned over the bed. "Hey, sleepy head, I know you are awake."

"Ri?" Amy responded without opening her eyes.

"Yeah."

"I just had the strangest dream."

"Do tell."

"I was in Middle Earth. There were Elves! One really hot guy carried me up a tree and you were married to one, but he died in a gun fight with an orc. And you almost died too, but Elrond and Arwen saved you. And you could speak Elvish. And it all looked so much cooler than the movies…"

"The movies, phbbbt. Some things are better in real life, Amy."

"What are you talking about?"

"Open your eyes."

"No, I can still see some of it."

"_Edroch hynd, meldis nin, a govannoch Imladris."_

"What did you just say!" Amy's eyes popped open and she sat straight up, staring at her friend.

"I said, 'open your eyes, my friend, and greet Imladris.' Unfortunately, that was no dream."

"Y-y-you mean…"

The door opened suddenly capturing both girls' attention. Arwen and Sáranéssa stepped inside, one bearing a tray of food, the other a basket of random supplies. Amy's eyes went wider, if that was possible, before she yelped and dove back under the covers.

"Amy?"

"No."

"Amy get back out here. If they were going to hurt us they would have done it days ago." Aria tugged on the blanket while the ellith set down their burdens and closed the door.

"No. I look like crap and probably smell just as bad."

"Yes, but you can't wash up if you are hiding under the covers."

"True." Amy reluctantly peeked out to see three friendly faces, dropped the blanket, and scooted out of the bed to stand awkwardly to her feet.

"_It is good to see you both up and looking well. Would you like to eat or wash first?"_ Arwen asked softly, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. Aria translated for Amy and paused for her to make up her mind.

"Um, Aria, I have another thought. Where's the bathroom? I have to go…"

Aria burst out laughing; Amy was doing the pee-pee dance while her friend tried to catch her breath long enough to relay the question. Arwen smiled sympathetically before gesturing to a side door. As Amy dashed through it Aria's musical laugh trilled through the chamber once more.

oOo

Bathed, fed, dressed, and coiffed, the strange guests were getting fidgety as the sun went down several hours later.

On such short notice, both had had to borrow dresses from Arwen in order to look presentable. Her being peredhel meant that she was shorter than average for an elleth. It was logical, therefore, if not somewhat odd, that her dresses fit both of the girls while needing the least amount of alterations. Both had chosen to borrow dark dresses for the occasion; Aria's, a forest-green Elf-spun cotton that fit surprisingly well, Amy's, a rust-colored velvet that had to be let out a bit to accommodate her decidedly un-elvish figure. Willowy she was not.

Sáranéssa and Arwen stood by the window to survey their handiwork. Aria's wavy black hair hung down her back, just past her shoulders, unadorned except for a few braids twisted to keep it out of her face. Her pale, slender features and graceful gait were at odds with her nervous pacing by the fireplace. Amy, on the other hand, was perched on the window seat, scribbling in spiral notebook from her backpack. Her own golden-brown locks had taken on a curious fiery hue after a thorough washing and hung straight down just past her shoulder blades, also with only a few strands twisted to keep it out of her face.

"Calm down, _meldis nin._ You are going to wear a hole in the floor."

Arwen smiled. The young mortal had been trying out elvish words all afternoon; granted, they were not from the High language favored by Elrond's house, but everyone could understand her for she spoke remarkably well. _And the girl will be able to communicate with any Elf, should she ever leave our lands later on,_ the Lady mused, then her brows furrowed, _now why would that be important?_ she wondered, not entirely sure where the first thought had come from.

A small sound at the doorway caught her attention and both ellith turned to find Arintiris standing just inside. He bowed before turning to the ranking lady. _"Your father says that it is time."_

"_Thank you."_ She said and gestured to the guests. Suddenly somber Aria stood rooted to the floor until Amy came up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, Aria. You need to do this."

"I—I know, but—"

"Just remember that you are not alone. Ever. David wrote of God, 'Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.'1 Even though it feels like these are just empty words, Aria, they come straight from the heart of the Father. You are not alone. You are safe in the palm of his hand, and tonight I will hold yours." Aria forced a small smile through her tears as Amy grasped her hand firmly and they took the first step toward the doorway and life beyond.

oOo

After leading the strange girls to the room where Beriol was laid out, Arwen and Arintiris pulled back to give them some time alone, neither noticing that Sáranéssa was missing. Aria crept forward to the pallet and cried softly as she caressed his face with her free hand. In the candlelight it looked as though he were merely sleeping, with his eyes closed. A small grin tugged at the corner of her mouth; she could count on one hand the number of times that had happened in the last century or so. Tracing his jaw line, her fingertips fluttered softly over his lips. With a sob she leaned down and left a gentle kiss there, startled by the cold she found.

Tears slipped down Amy's cheeks as Aria tightened the grip on her hand. Following the swift movement of her friend's head she saw that a half-dozen Elves had stepped silently into the room; they had come for the body. Gently she pulled Aria out of their way and they came forward to lift the pallet and carry it outside. Silently the girls walked after them, unaware of the crowd gathering after them, weaving a mournful tune in the darkness.

Even the stars seemed dim that night as the entire population of Imladris sojourned up the hillside toward the lantern-lit clearing ahead. At one end of the glade a grand old oak tree presided and under his roots a grave had been dug. The Elves approached the yawning hole and carefully handed the pallet through, guiding it to rest on the earth inside. When they stood back so that the grave could be closed off, Aria moved forward to touch the tree.

_/I will care for him, little one. Visit as often as you must, for I will not be going anywhere. /_ the tree affirmed. Aria just closed her eyes against the tears and squeezed Amy's hand.

**Glossary **

Psalm 139:7-10

Ellon (S) male elf, pl - ellyn

Elleth (S) female elf, pl - ellith

**A/N:**

So guess what! I've had over 1,000 hits on this story! Is that cool or what? Maybe I should hand out Thing more often…

Thanks to **Morgiel** and **Frodo's Girl** for your critical thinking skills and to all the rest of you Nonny-Mouse readers for, um, reading! This just makes me hyper. I think I'll go write some more random stuff and then edit it later when I am sane… Don't laugh; you do it, too…

Oh yeah, one more thing. School is starting up for everyone in the next couple of weeks. I just wanted to say that I will do my best to stick with the posting-of-the-chapters-on-a-fairly-regular-basis thing despite the whole moving-back-onto-campus-and-starting-classes-and-stuff.

Last thing. Promise. I am curious, in a purely innocent authorial sense, as to what the readers think of the story so far. Who's your favorite character? What do you think will happen in the future? Is there anyone you want to see more of? Less of? Are you thoroughly confused? Am I? Is there a place for us? Shall we dance?

In the meantime, random Noldorin Elves for all! (The Authoress cannot be held responsible for any and all defects that may be found in said Noldorin Elves. To prevent any mishaps we recommend that you keep your Elf away from Dark Lords, glowing gems, and all ocean-going vessels. Other than that, enjoy!)

Iell Eruo

**A/N II:**

Due to ongoing research the following change was made: Arien - Árenne.


	9. Good Grief

**IMPORTANT:**

Just a short note before you get started. Due to my recent research I have discovered that it is tantamount to sacrilege for an Elf to take the name of any other being as their own. This said I have changed the following: Arien - Árenne. Sadly there has been no change on the ownership of the genius-ness that is Middle Earth; it still belongs to Tolkien and no one else…

**The story so far:**

Arien is the Maia of the sun and appears in this story on a daily basis, though un-credited. Aria is the modern-day alias of the elleth Árenne whose husband Beriol died when they, along with her friend Amy, fell 6,000 years into the past and landed on the doorstep of the Last Homely House. Mr. Edward Williams is an Elf named Faereb who was/is/will be working with Aria/Árenne, Beriol and several as-yet-unnamed others on a mysterious quest the Valar assigned 4,000 years after the War of the Ring.

Wow… time travel sounds so confusing when you write it down like that… Anywho!

"English speech."

_Thoughts, any language. _

"_Elvish speech (specifically, Sindarin)."_

_/Mind speech: -emotions- images /_

**Chapter 9 – Good Grief**

After the funeral Arwen gently shepherded the girls back down to the House and into an upstairs room that was to be their quarters for the rest of their stay. It had two individual beds along adjacent walls, a wardrobe, a fireplace with a small sitting area, and a desk under a large window that overlooked the kitchen gardens. Their packs had been placed just inside the door along with their cloaks.

"_Your clothes have been laundered and shall be returned to you when they are dry."_ Arwen explained when the widow seemed the most coherent. _"There are chamber pots under the beds if you need them and night clothes in the wardrobe. Sáranéssa shall attend you first thing in the morning and show you the way to the dining hall. My room is the third on the left if you need anything tonight."_

Aria nodded vaguely and sat on the bed. Sensing that she probably wouldn't be able to translate anything, Arwen took Amy's hand and pulled her out into the hallway. Counting three doors down the left side she opened it and pointed inside. _"Nin."_ She pointed to herself. _"Im sí."_ She pointed back into the room.

"I get it." Amy said, stifling a yawn. "This is your room. Arwen here," she pointed at the door, "Amy and Aria there," she pointed back down the hall. Arwen smiled. "Thanks. _Le hannon._ Good night." She waved, stifling another yawn as she turned to go back to her room.

"_Oltho vae."_ Arwen murmured watching until Amy was safely shut away before entering her room to follow her own wish to 'dream well.'

oOo

The next morning was relatively quiet, Amy being preoccupied with unpacking and exploring the room and Aria just kind of staring out into space. Sáranéssa curled up with a book by the unlit fireplace and pretended to read while surreptitiously observing the strangers. Arwen arrived after lunch with a few more of her older dresses and a basket of sewing supplies, having been notified earlier by her cohort that with two rather interesting exceptions the guests' clothes were somewhat embarrassing.

Having seen what they arrived in, neither elleth was surprised to find more of the same in their packs, but the point was to try to smooth the transition and earn their trust. What better way to do that than to offer them suitable clothing? Really, what girl can resist the idea of new clothes? So after a rather interesting conversation where Amy was introduced to many new words it was decided that Aria would get the blue velvet and the frothy-looking light pink dress that looked very ancient-Greek-with-sleeves, neither of which needed adjustments, oddly enough. Amy was left with the brown and tan cotton dress and the copperish counterpart to the pink thing. Her dresses did need adjustments, though, so the afternoon was spent taking up hems and adding extra panels to the bodices. Female elves tend to be flat-chested but Arwen was somewhat more endowed, what with her human blood and all, so it wasn't that much of a chore to add a few more inches to her dresses.

The afternoon passed a bit quicker than before and the ellith learned a lot about the strangers, or at least Amy. Aria often deflected their questions by simply translating them to her friend and judiciously editing her replies. If their hosts picked up on this little habit, they didn't say anything.

When the tasks were complete Arwen took the newly refurbished dresses and hung them in the wardrobe only to find something unexpected.

"_Where did these come from?"_ she asked, holding up the green and maroon costume dresses that Amy had hung up that morning.

"_They were for Amy's birthday party."_ Aria said quietly.

"_Why did you not show them to us before? They are beautiful."_

"_I did not think—we only brought them because he—"_ she looked away, unable to speak.

"_I did not mean to cause you pain, Árenne. You do not have to wear them if you do not wish."_ Arwen placed the dresses back in the wardrobe and closed it firmly. _"Come! It is almost time for dinner. We should make our way to the hall."_

oOo

Amy had already blown out the candle and snuggled under the covers. She was tired but her mind refused to rest until she had the answer to something that had been bugging her for the last few days. Tentatively she called out into the darkened room.

"Ri?"

"Hmm?"

"What was his name?"

Aria rolled over to get a better look at her friend whose bed was at a right angle to hers. With only starlight filtering in through the window she could still discern Amy's shadowed form; lying on her side, she was steadily looking back at the grieving widow. After a few moments of fighting for composure Aria responded: "Beriol."

"That's a –yawn- nice name."

"I think so."

"What does it mean?"

Pause. "Instrument of Protection."

"He sure lived up to his name... what language is it?"

Another pause. "Sindarin."

"Wow!"

Silence.

"Ri?"

"Yeah?"

"Was he an elf?"

Heavy sigh. "Yeah."

"Did he -yawn- teach you?"

"Teach me what?"

"To speak Elvish?"

"No."

"You knew it already?"

"Yes."

"Oh. -yawn- Who taught you?"

"My parents."

"Who taught them?"

"Their parents."

"Who—"

"Their parents before them, and their parents before them, all the way back to the beginning when they first awoke under the brand new stars and learned that they could speak at all. Happy?"

"Yeah... So… -yawn- Wait! Does that mean… umm… are you…?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

"Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"Go to sleep."

"'kay. -yawn- 'night."

oOo

Just before dawn Aria was startled from her reverie when Amy started thrashing around in her bed. Suddenly the girl snorted, sat straight up, exclaimed, "Holy crap, you're an Elf!" blinked, and then fell back asleep.

No one could figure out why the quiet new widow would randomly burst out laughing for no reason at all over the next few days…

oOo

One week to the day after the funeral, Aria asked to be taken back to the grave site. Thinking that it would do her some good to be out of doors, Arwen arranged a picnic lunch for the four of them and they made a day of it.

Sáranéssa laid out the blanket several yards away from the oak tree and Amy unpacked the food. After lunch the two of them walked around the meadow practicing old words and learning new ones. Cyermanto had mentioned that it was easy to conceal ill intent when no one understands the words you use, so the elleth had decided to learn Amy's language as she helped Amy learn hers. It was a bit awkward to do so without letting the girl know that that was what she was doing, plus Amy had the advantage of her wordlists and grammar guides from the internet, but the elleth had a good memory and she was catching on.

Arwen stayed on the blanket under the shade, her silver needle flashing in and out of some black cloth she had brought along. From her vantage point she could see the two would-be linguists trading names of flowers and colors and anything else they saw as well as Aria, sitting under the oak tree, stroking the bark of his roots and talking quietly.

They stayed like that until the sun slipped far into the west and the light began to fade. A bell rang down the hill, the Last Homely House calling its residents in to eat. The ellith packed up the basket and Amy walked over to gather her friend.

"Aria. It's time to go."

"I can't"

"Yes you can. Come on, get up."

"No! I can't do it any more."

"Do what?" Amy asked, plopping to the ground next to her friend.

"I can't. I just can't!" she yelled, finally giving in to the tears that she had denied during the past week.

"Hey," Amy soothed, pulling her into a hug, "you don't have to. Go ahead. Let it out. It's okay."

The ellith were finished with the picnic things and Sáranéssa was already lugging it downhill, but Arwen came to enquire about the delay and found Aria sobbing uncontrollably on her friend's shoulder. She locked eyes with Amy and pointed towards the House, Amy nodded so she headed back to give them some privacy.

oOo

"_Arintiris, have you seen your niece?"_

"_No, Arwen, is she not with you?"_

"_I have not seen her since dinner was completed. It may be that she went back to check on our guests. Would you do me a favor?"_

"_Anything."_

"_Would you take some blankets up to the glen? Árenne has finally allowed herself to grieve and her friend stayed to comfort her. They were not able to attend dinner and it has gotten rather chilly since the sun went down; I rather doubt that Árenne would notice, but her young friend is more susceptible to the temperature change. And tell Sáranéssa that I wish to speak with her when she is available."_

"_It shall be done."_

"_Thank you."_

oOo

Everything was quiet as Amy sat with her back against the ancient root, legs stretched out before her. Aria was curled up on the ground next to her with her head in Amy's lap; she had cried herself to sleep still clinging to her friend's hand. Gently Amy stroked the grief-stricken widow's hair and looked up at the bejeweled sky.

"I had never even met him before that night, you know." She said to the Presence beyond the stars. "I didn't even know that she was married, but then again, I didn't know that Elves were real, either. Well, I kind of wished it, but I never let myself actually believe." Amy smiled, sadly. "It is strange, though. I would have called her my best friend, even only knowing her for a few years, but this is the deepest thing that I have ever shared with her. It is like her grief is some palpable thing, throbbing there between us… I just want to take it away, or at least, break it up so that she doesn't have to deal with it alone. Ah, but you know that feeling, too.

"You are no stranger to sorrows. I have to remind myself that you have been dealing with depths of Elvin grief for far longer than I have. Please, Father, ease hers. I—I don't want to be alone either… I know, I know, that is selfish of me… Still, I don't know what would be worse, her dying of grief right now or lingering on as a shadow of her former self? At least if she left now, she would be happy… my grief would not run nearly as deep, I think. Oh, I don't know!" A tear slid down her cheek and landed with a splash on her dress.

Arintiris sat on a wide branch of the oak tree that jutted out into the clearing. From his perch he could clearly see the fresh grave and the last two mourners seated beside it. His keen ears picked up the steady breathing of the dreaming elleth and the mortal maid's soliloquy to the stars, even if he couldn't understand it. His sharp eyes noticed the single teardrop that fell unchecked and the way that her head bent forward in the silence. What he didn't find was any evidence of his sister and that worried him. He felt for the blankets that he had brought. When he was sure that the girl was asleep, he would climb down and drape them over the pair. Just as he was about to begin his descent the girl stirred and he froze.

Leaning her head back on the tree root behind her, Amy looked up into the sky once more. Having run through every argument she could think of, she had come to one conclusion, over and over again. "Oh God," her voice became ragged and trailed off. "You are the only One who can see all ends. You decide!"

_/-Joy!- /_ the old tree exulted, almost startling the Elf out of its branches.

"_You understand her?"_ He queried softly, gripping the bark a little tighter than was necessary.

_/-rightness- an image of a golden ribbon flowing from Amy to the heavens -reverence- a white ribbon flowing from the heavens to every living creature -hope- a green ribbon wrapped in white flowing from the tree to Amy and a golden ribbon wrapped in white flowed back to the tree /_

"_What did she say?" _ He leaned forward to study her closer.

_/-confidence- an image of intense brightness -holy awe- /_

"_Oh?"_

_/-fear- an image of Aria dead -loneliness- Amy standing over two graves/_ a pause _/-concern- an image of a pale Aria sobbing contrasted with an image of Aria and Beriol together in brightness -puzzlement- /_ another pause _/- confidence- an image of intense brightness -holy awe- /_

"_I am not quite sure that I understand."_

_/-holy awe mixed with intense longing- an image of Amy bowing to the brightness -intense satisfaction- /_

"_But—"_

_/-eagerness!- a picture of Amy /_

And from the tired, tearstained lips of the mortal maid below rose a melody, hauntingly sweet. Voice cracked with grief and unshed tears, broken yet confident, she poured her whole heart into the half-whispered song. Unnoticed by her, a lone Elf sitting in the branches above bent forward to catch the words of pure faith that she sent winging up to the brightly shining stars above.

"When peace, like a river, attendeth my way/

When sorrows like sea billows roll; /

Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say/

It is well, it is well with my soul. /

It is well / with my soul/

It is well/ it is well with my soul.

"Though Satan should buffet, tho trials should come/

Let this blest assurance control/

That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate/

And hath shed his own blood for my soul. /

It is well / with my soul/

It is well/ it is well with my soul.

"My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought/

My sin not in part, but in whole /

Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more/

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul/

It is well / with my soul/

It is well/ it is well with my soul.

"And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight/

The clouds be roll'd back as a scroll/

The trump shall re-sound and the Lord shall descend/

"Even so," it is well with my soul. /

It is well / with my soul/

It is well/ it is well with my soul."

oOo

When Sáranéssa stepped into the glen an hour later she never noticed the odd shadow in the oak boughs. Walking straight to the blanket draped pair she roused Amy and between the two of them they carried Aria back to the House. A few minutes later Arintiris dropped lightly to the ground and stalked after them.

**It Is Well with My Soul**

_Words by Horatio G. Spafford, 1873, music by Philip P. Bliss, 1876 _

_(Ah! The wonders of the Public Domain!)_

**A/N:**

Me and my big mouth! As soon as I say that I will try to keep the posting relatively constant, I get caught up in a situation that keeps me from posting for a month! Note to self: don't make promises in the future…

Sooo… about this chapter… There is no evidence that anyone could speak words directly into the mind of another, Elf or Man, much less the plant-life. If they couldn't do it with the palantíri, how would they do it without them?

Still, if the Elves did communicate with the trees of the Fangorn forest, "waking them up, teaching them to speak" (as Legolas said in TTT) I suppose it means that the trees could communicate after a fashion. I postulate that the trees would therefore communicate as the Elves did, by projecting emotions and images rather than words. If this is extremely confusing for you, PM me and I will send you an English translation of the conversation between Arintiris and the oak tree. Okay?

As always, thank you to those who have been reading the story up until this point and special thanks to **sendmerainstorms, Frodo's girl, **and **Pechethu** for reviewing!

Speaking of reviewing: What do you all think of the developments in this chapter? No objections from the canon community, I hope…

And I have one question: iffen I was going to bribe the readers some time in the future what would the readers be most receptive to being bribed with…? Umm, yeah.

Iell Eruo


	10. Memories

**A/N:**

After a lengthy discussion with (read "lecture from") Sáranéssa, the Authoress would like to make the following amendment to chapter nine:

Sáranéssa is not Arintiris' sister as previously published. She is, in fact, his sister-daughter or niece.

The Authoress extends her sincerest apologies to both Sáranéssa and the entire House of the Silver Leaf for posting the last chapter without checking all of the facts. She is now in possession of the genealogies of several prominent Elven families and promises to triple check all relationships before each submission. The Authoress is deeply sorry for any insult or confusion that this incident may have caused.

Now, on with the story, which she doesn't own, except for the parts that Tolkien didn't publish and the Elves let her print by their good graces. whimper so don't hurt me now, okay?

"English speech."

_Thoughts, any language._

_"Elvish speech (Sindarin unless otherwise specified)."_

_/Mind speech: -emotions- images /_

Chapter 10 – Memories

"Hey! What does it take to get a bath around here?"

"What?"

"You know: a bath," Amy mimed as she enunciated carefully, "where you sit in a tub of water and wash yourself..."

"I am not a child; I know what a bath is."

"Really? You haven't had one in a couple of days."

"And?

"We are starting to smell like... something icky. AND I feel all prickly. I want to shave. I want a bath. How do I get one around here?"

"Take a sponge bath behind the screen. I'll see about getting you a razor."

"Heck no, techno. I wanna wash my hair, too. It gets all oily when I don't wash it regularly."

"Fine, when Sáranéssa comes in this morning I will ask her about getting one organized."

"One?"

"FINE: two. Happy?"

"Yup!" Amy bounced out of the bed and over to the wardrobe. "So, what'll it be today? Is it going to be hot, do you think?"

"I suppose that the weather here is pretty mild, considering who exactly is in charge and the options that he has at his disposal."

"Oh, you mean one of 'Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky' that--"

"DON'T say that out loud." Aria commanded, throwing the covers back and stalking over to hiss at Amy. "If they heard you, they would definitely get suspicious. No one is supposed to know who has which one and where. They are hiding them from the un-named-one and he has ways of finding things out. Remember?"

"K. Sooo... I can wear the light dress today, then?"

Aria sighed. "Yes."

"Cool!"

Sáranéssa knocked lightly on the door before entering, only pausing a fraction of a second when Aria muttered something that sounded like, "oh, thank God." But, not knowing English, it meant nothing to her, so she set down the food tray and closed the door behind her.

_"Amy would like to bathe this morning, if that is possible. How long do you think it would take to prepare everything?"_ the widow asked as their keeper set out the breakfast items.

_"Perhaps half of an hour if no one else is using the tub. Shall I have it brought up now?"_

_"Yes. If we start the water boiling, it should be ready by the time we are done eating."_

_"That sounds reasonable. I will take care of it. She will need soap and towels as well?"_

_"Yes. Is it also possible to get a small razor?"_

The elleth's eyebrows flew up in surprise. _"Whatever for?"_

_"Nothing dire, I assure you. It is necessary for her to feel clean."_

_"I will see what I can find."_ Sáranéssa said slowly, an uncertain look on her face as she left the room.

"What did she say?" Amy asked, plopping into one of the chairs by the fireplace and picking through the fruit bowl.

"She is going to get the water started for your bath and look for a razor."

"What's with the funny look when she left?"

"She is uncertain as to your need for a blade when bathing. You might want to be careful when you shave so that she doesn't think you were trying to kill yourself."

"I am not a shamed Roman. I will not suicide in my bath." Amy shook her head and stuffed a whole piece of toast into her mouth, grinning.

Aria chuckled and gracefully sat in the other chair. Plucking a ripe peach from the bowl, she sat back and bit into it; chewing thoughtfully, she was quickly caught up in another time and place.

oOo

_"Claudia? What is wrong?" She called as a young aristocratic woman brushed past her in the crowded marketplace._

_"Carmen!" the girl exclaimed as she whirled around, obviously troubled. "Do you remember my brother Julius, the one who likes to gamble?"_

_"Yes. What has happened to him?"_

_"He was very drunk at the games yesterday and made an absurd bet on one of the chariot teams."_

_"Oh no!"_

_"They lost!" Claudia whimpered. "Now he has this huge debt that he cannot pay on top of what he already owes. I overheard Father and Uncle Gaius talking with him. They ordered him to--to--"_

_"But why?"_

_"Because he has shamed the family!" the Roman woman hissed. "Father refuses to pay the debt unless he does something to make up for the trouble that he has caused."_

_"Oh, Claudia. What can I do?"_

_"Nothing. Father has made up his mind and Julius knows that there is nothing that he can do. I am going to the apothecary to get something to put in his wine. I do not want him to be in pain..." she broke down sobbing._

_"Ai, Eru. Estent no in cuilin firionin." Carmen murmured, holding the distraught woman as life in the marketplace went on as normal all around them._

oOo

"Yoohoo... Middle-Earth to Aria..."

"What?"

"Hey. You spaced out for a moment there. Everything okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, you just reminded me of something."

"Like what?"

"Ancient history."

"Mpff?"

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full of food?"

Amy swallowed her toast and coughed. "Yeah, but she's not here is she?"

"Definitely not." Aria agreed and stuffed a whole piece of toast into her own mouth.

Sáranéssa entered the room a few minutes later to find the two half-laughing/half-choking over an empty tray.

oOo

An hour later Aria stood in the library, gaping at the selection of written material before her. Wistfully dragging a finger along the shelf to her right, she drank in the beautiful Tengwar script and sighed. _How long has it been since I have seen so large a collection of writing in my native language?_ she thought. _Actually, I think I recognize this one._ Aria pulled a copy of the _Ainulindalë_ off of the shelf and absently flipped through the pages. _I think that this is the one that Mother would read to me when she wanted me to go to sleep... _ Caressing the crisp pages, she did not notice anyone else enter the room.

_"Ah, the lady Árenne."_ an amused voice spoke from behind, causing Aria to jump a little in surprise. She turned to find a dark-haired ellon smiling down on her and blinked. _"It is good to see you up and about, lady. The last time that I saw you, you did not look so well I am afraid."_

_"When was that... lord... Elrohir?"_

It was his turn to look surprised before answering. _"You were unconscious, lady. I was in the patrol that replaced the one which found you and your friend."_

_"Ah."_

_"Forgive me, lady, but how did you know my name? We have not yet been introduced."_

Aria froze for a second before giving a half-smile. _"Lucky guess?"_ she shrugged and forced a small laugh. _"Actually, you look just like a--your father, and him I have met."_

He looked a bit skeptical. _"But I do have a brother. It could just as easily have been him, why guess **my** name?"_

_"I know you through your sister."_ she said quietly enough that he strained to hear. Aria shrugged again and resumed normal volume. _"Arwen mentioned that, of her two brothers, Elladan was upset about something. You appear much more calm and controlled than the ellon she described."_

_"Yes, I am the voice of reason in my family."_ he smirked and noted that she relaxed a bit. _"What are you holding, there?"_

_"Ah, the _Ainulindalë_. M--my mother used to read it to me when I was young."_

_"Mine as well."_ he said, reaching for the book. _"I remember falling asleep to her recitations many a night. Do you have a favorite passage?"_

_"The description of the Music of Ilúvatar. And you?"_

_"Actually, it is the same one. My mother could be very dramatic when she chose and when she got to that part she would wave her arms around as though she was conducting the music herself!" _He demonstrated and she stepped back in order not to get smacked in the face by his sleeves.

_"Yes!"_ Aria nodded enthusiastically. _"And then she would stand abruptly when she wanted the music to stop and the book would fall to the floor!"_

_"Exactly!"_

They laughed for a bit and then Aria suddenly clammed up. _"I... I need to get back to Amy. If you will excuse me."_

Elladan watched, astonished, as she ran from the room. _Why did she flee,_ he thought as he turned to re-shelve the book in his hands._ We were having such an interesting conversation. I wonder if our mothers knew each other when they were growing up? They could be friends, now, at least. It sounds like they would get along just fine. If mother is doing all right..._ The warrior stalked out into the sunlit corridor, deeply engrossed in his darkening thoughts.

oOo

Amy was toweling her hair when Aria burst through the door, shut it firmly behind her, and leaned on it to catch her breath.

"SoOo... tag or hide-and-go-seek?"

"What?" the elleth turned, incredulously.

"You look like a little kid hiding from someone; what game are you playing?"

"I'm playing the 'Oh-crap-I-think-I-just-said-something-I-shouldn't-have-and-now-I'm-just-hoping-no-one-noticed' game. You wanna play?"

"Sure." Amy shrugged and reached for her brush. "What're the rules?"

"Go back in time and then say something that will alter the course of history as you know it."

"'K. Sounds like fun. Oooh! Oooh!" Amy waved her hand in the air like an eager grade-schooler. "Can I be the one to tell them the One Ring gets destroyed by a hobbit?"

"NO!"

"I was just kidding."

"Do I appear amused?"

Amy tilted her head so that she was almost bent double, looking up at Aria. "Yes. See you are smiling!"

oOo

_"Ah, Elrohir, I was looking for you. Do you mind taking a look at these... Elrohir? What is wrong?"_

The son of Elrond looked up from where he sat on a garden bench to see Arintiris standing above him. _"Arintiris, do you think that my mother made it safely to the Undying Lands?"_

_"I have not heard of anyone yet who has not."_ The elder ellon answered carefully, taking the empty half of the seat.

_"But what if she died before she arrived? What then?"_

_"Your father is a very good healer. It was not her body that ailed her, it was her mind. She was in no danger of physical death, Elrohir. She made it to Valinor where they can give her peace of mind. She is fine."_

_"You are sure?"_

Arintiris blinked. The look on the younger ellon's face was more of a child in need of comfort than that of a seasoned warrior. _"Very."_ he said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. _"Very sure."_

Elrohir nodded and looked back down, fighting tears.

_"What brought this on, if I may ask?"_

_"I met Árenne in the library and we spoke of our mothers. Hers sounded so much like mine that I wondered if they had met over there..."_

_"Which led to your wondering if--"_

_"If she had made it at all." _Silence reigned for a few moments before he spoke again. _"Arintiris, you know how hard it is for people to tell my brother and I apart?"_

_"Is that really a question or are you leading up to something?"_

The younger lord chuckled. _"I startled the lady in the library and yet she knew me before I had introduced myself."_

_"Perhaps you had met before?"_

_"No. The first time I saw her was when you were taking the patrol back to the House. Elladan was the one to aid you there and I have been doing a circuit of the fences for the last week or so."_

_"Did you ask how she knew you?"_

_"Yes, she said that I looked like Father and that Arwen had mentioned Elladan being in one of his moods."_

_"Process of elimination?"_

_"So it seems."_

_"And yet?"_

_"There was something else in her voice. A kind of grief... I cannot really explain it."_

_"She is recently widowed. Her grief may show itself in her voice for a very long time."_

_"We never talked about that, only our childhood memories."_

_"Perhaps she grieves for family as well."_

_"But if she really is from Valinor as she claims, why would she mourn for family that is safe inside its shores? She would have left them knowing they were safe."_

_"But we do not know how long that has been. It could be that they did not part well or perhaps she genuinely misses them. Without her husband she is alone here except for her mortal friend."_

_"Why would talking about them make her flee from me? One moment we were laughing and the next she was gone."_

_"I suspect that something bigger preys on her mind. Perhaps she fears that by talking about it she will lose the closeness of her memories."_

_"Perhaps. What was it you were asking earlier?"_

_"Come! It is almost time for dinner. We can talk about business later. 'Food first.' as Young Master Labingi is fond of saying."_

With that both ellyn began laughing in earnest as they proceeded up the path to the house just as the bell began to ring.

**Glossary**

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky" is the first line in the poem that is just before the Forward in The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. Christopher Tolkien owns the copyright for his father's genius-ness...

"Carmen" (Latin) "Song" a.k.a. Aria...

_"Ai, Eru. Estent no in cuilin firionin."_ (S) "Ah, God. So short are the lives of (mortal) men."

The _Ainulindalë_ was part of the Elven lore published in the Silmarillion, also copyrighted by Christopher Tolkien...

_"Labingi"_ (Westron) "Baggins" Bilbo was living in Imladris by this point. Although he is 128 years old he would be considered a young adult to the Elves, whose age of majority was 50.

**A/N:**

Yea! I'm alive! I survived the Elf attacks over the break! I mean, umm, Hi...

Sorry for the no-update-thing. I get the urge to write at the darndest times; like finals week, for example. Unfortunately for everyone, the juices seem to be flowing best at a point in the story that is farther down the timeline, so to speak. I find it quite frustrating at times. There are another 13 chapters already written that I can't post because there is a huge gap between this point and where that picks up. On the other hand, I can post the chapters faster when we do catch up…

Still beta-less. If you see any blatant spelling/grammar errors or plot holes/screw-ups that I might have missed, please let me know. Sometimes I forget what I have and have not posted already.

A note on Elven names. Elves never changed their names and no two Elves shared a name. Children were given a variation of their parents' name at birth, called the Father Name. Sometime later they were given a Mother Name that usually had to do with a personality trait, talent, or perhaps prophetic meaning, and was only used by those close to that Elf. Lore Names were given by someone outside of the family, usually spouses, and were used by others the most. As they traveled, Elves might translate their names into the language of the people they were around, but seldom just picked a new name.

Árenne was the lore name that her husband gave to her at their wedding, Aria and Carmen are translations related to another name that she has yet to reveal. The number of names that she goes by might get confusing as we get deeper into her memory so I want to get this part straight while we can. Still, I was able to add in some of Aria/Árenne's history for you there. What do you all think of it now? What do you think that Aria is hiding from the inhabitants of Imladris?

Many thanks to **Frodo's girl**, **sendmerainstorms**, and **SilverGreeneye** for reviewing last chapter. I would also like to mention that **SilverGreeneye** also won the right to be included in my other fic for correctly guessing the crossover. For those of you intensely interested in Aria's history with the questors, check out my King Arthur crossover… Can you figure out who is who?

'Til next time,

Iell Eruo


	11. A Thorny Problem

**A/N:** It has truly been a long time since I have updated this story and I owe you a good, long chappie. Here you go!

"English speech."

_Thoughts, any language._

_"Elvish speech (Sindarin unless otherwise specified)."_

_/Mind speech: -emotions- images /_

**Chapter 11 – A Thorny Problem**

A soft knock sounded on the door to Elrond's study and he looked up to see his daughter standing in the entrance.

"_Father, may I speak with you?"_

"_Absolutely!"_ He pushed the chair back from his desk and joined her over by the window. She stood in silence for a moment and he followed her gaze out into the garden below where Amy was dragging Sáranéssa and Aria down the paths, stopping only to point at things and repeat the names that the ellith supplied. Every once in a while the group would burst out in laughter at some misunderstanding and begin again. Elrond could see where Arwen's thoughts were going and he smiled before she even began speaking.

"_It has been over three weeks since they were found by the ford, Father, and this morning it was impossible to keep the young one inside. She was even able to coax her friend into leaving the House for the first time since the picnic. Strange it is to me that she can bring a smile to the lips of one so deep in grief, and yet it feels right somehow. I do not know if that makes any sense to you, but I wish to help them both…"_

"_What do you have in mind, Daughter?"_

"_Árenne does not seem to enjoy extra attention, indeed she seems to do everything in her power to avoid it, but for the sake of her friend she might be willing to get out more and the excursions into the sun would be good for her spirits."_

"_This is true."_

"_I was thinking that we could arrange for Amy to be taken around the valley, on little guided tours. It will be easier for us to learn more about her if we can speak directly to her and it will be easier for her to learn our language if she can equate the words with the places, actions, and things they describe. Árenne will have to go along, at least to translate, until her friend can learn enough to speak for herself."_

"_Who were you thinking would be their guide, Dear One? You have duties to attend to, as well as everyone else, and Sáranéssa has her own orders to follow."_

"_About that, Father. Do you not think it wise to add another guard or two? She cannot be with them at all times and there is no one to watch them while she is giving her reports to you and my duties call me away. Arintiris has taken to speaking with them in the evenings but he can only do so when he is not on the watch that night."_

"_I was not aware of that. There is no reason for him to take such action. My meetings with Sáranéssa are brief and she returns to her duties immediately upon their conclusion."_

"_Actually, it was Amy's idea. She wished to thank him for his kindness when they arrived and seems genuinely friendly toward him as well as his sister-daughter. Regardless, there are few here that our guests know and trust; I was thinking of a small rotation for the tours, that way no one's work would get behind and she would have a wider knowledge base to learn from."_

"_You have been plotting this for a while, I see."_ He kissed the top of her head._ "Who were you planning to pull into your little scheme?"_

"_Aside from Sáranéssa? ­Malthenas of Lórien, Neldhu of Mithlond, and perhaps Arintiris since he spends his free time watching over them anyway."_

"_I will speak with the Captain about his actions this afternoon, but as for the others, if you have their agreement then you have my blessing. Where are you planning to take our guests, do you know?"_

"_Well, just the gardens and the house until they are more comfortable with crowds, then if you allow it, the stables, the workshops, and when they are ready, the outer farms. Places with a lot of things in them will be good for lessons in vocabulary. I was also wondering… would you approve of someone to tutor Amy in reading and writing? I have looked through the books that she brought with her and the runes they use are like none I have ever seen before; if she is going to stay with us for an extended time, being able to read the tengwar will help her immensely."_

"_I shall look into it."_

"_Oh, thank you Father!"_ she spun around and fairly strangled him with glee._ "This is going to be so much fun! I have to get back to the others and let them know; we have a lot of work to do!"_ Arwen headed for the door, but Elrond caught her arm.

"_I am sending messages out to the Elven realms today, is there anything that you want me to tell your grandparents?"_

"_Give me an hour and I will have a letter for you."_ Her eyes sparkled. _"Thank you, Father…"_ and she was gone.

Elrond looked down at his desk and the parchments scattered there. He sighed. Even with Elladan's drafts, it had taken him the better part of a month to organize his thoughts about the events surrounding the 'strange quendi' and put together a coherent letter of explanation. Arwen's blithe comment about his patrol-captain had just made things a lot more complicated.

Pulling his chair back up to the desk, Elrond picked up the penknife and began sharpening a quill. The Valar had sent the girls to his doorstep, that much was clear, but one of them was a mortal and the last time he had allowed one under his roof for an extended period of time he had effectively killed his daughter. Arintiris was like a brother to Elrond and the Lord of Imladris was not sure that he could handle another loss in his immediate family.

'But it is not your choice,' a little voice in the back of his mind cautioned.

_No!_ he thought, _I am his liege lord; I have a duty to keep him safe._

'He is almost 6,500 years old and unmarried; he is destined to lead a strange life.'

_Historically, strange plus humans equals bad! My own family has proven this many times over. Some lines should not be crossed; I have to nip this thing in the bud. End of discussion. _

Dipping the quill into ink, Elrond began a new letter with firm, fluid strokes.

oOo

Amy looked up when a shadow fell across her notebook. "Oh, Arintiris! I'd been wondering where you were. Look!" She turned and retrieved a basket from the seat next to her. "_Gwirin!_ Roses!" Not noticing the strange look on his face she began rattling off all of the colors that she had learned earlier: "_Goer_ is red_, malen_ is yellow_, lún_ is blue_, calen_ is green_, fein _is white_—"_

"_Glos."_ He corrected and she paused to look up.

"_Glos…le hannon. _Thank you_." _she smiled and held out the flower. When he plucked it from her hand she tugged the pen out of her hair and bent to write down the new word before she could forget it.

Aria, coming up to stand at the end of the bench, noticed the look that passed over his eyes as Amy's hair tumbled out of its twist and into her face again. She cleared her throat and looked over her friend's notes.

"Hey, Amy? _Glos_ is spelled with one 's' and it means 'dazzling white' if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, thanks." She corrected the entry before looking up again. Cyermanto and Sáranéssa were coming up the path towards the group and the elleth looked troubled.

"_I thought you were on patrol, today?"_ Aria asked the Elf standing across from her.

"_I was given another assignment a short while ago."_ He replied, glancing at the advancing pair. _"Lord Elrond wishes for me to deliver some messages to the Elves in the east. I am leaving as soon as the preparations can be made. I felt you should know…"_

"_You are traveling alone?"  
_

"_No, Cyermanto goes with me over the mountains and then we split up. He goes to Lothlórian and I go to Thranduil."_

"_In the Mirkwood? Alone?"_

He nodded. _"The paths are warded. It is still safe for those who know their way."_

"Aria? What are you talking about? Lothlórian and Thranduil; is somebody leaving?" Amy glanced back and forth between the two Elves standing over her. "What's going on?"

"Elrond is sending him and Cyermanto to deliver messages to the eastern realms. They are leaving in a little while. He came to say goodbye."

"What!" Amy stood to her feet, dumping the basket to the ground, unheeded. "That's crazy! Why would he do a thing like that? He could send anyone, why would he send one of our few friends away on such a long journey?"

Aria noticed a dark-haired shadow standing in one of the windows overlooking the garden. _"Do you know what the messages concern?"_ she asked quietly, trying to bring the figure into focus.

"_I think it has to do with you two and your rather interesting arrival. Such incidents are not trivial in times like these. Cyermanto and I witnessed it and have gotten to know you a bit, which may be a useful resource to those who must respond."_

"_I see."_ Aria recognized the face in the window just before it disappeared. She turned to her friend. "Elrond thinks that the other realms need to know of our arrival and is sending the most informed messengers that he has. Don't take it personal, Amy, he just wants what is best for all concerned."

Amy sighed and knelt to pick up her flowers. "He has a right to do that, I suppose. I just wish that it didn't mean losing a friend."

"You won't lose them; they will be back before you know it."

"Time moves different for me, _meldis nin_."

"You are living in an Elven realm, now, Amy. You might be surprised…"

oOo

Edward stood on the sidewalk in the rain watching as various police officers scurried in and out of a rather battered house on Bryant Avenue. Yellow tape had been strung up preventing him from getting any closer, much to his annoyance, so he had to settle for simply observing and trying to overhear what they did and did not know about what had just taken place. Specifically he wanted to know what had happened to the occupants of said house, but no one was mentioning any yet.

He stood in the shadows of an ornamental tree for hours until they seemed to be packing up. When he had an opening, Edward raced into the alley beside the house and began looking for a way to get in when a familiar presence brought him to a standstill.

"_**Hail, son of the Firstborn."**_

Edward turned to see a very large, glowing Maia standing in the alley where there had been nothing just moments before.

"_Hail, lord Ossë."_ He replied, not sure how to respond to the situation. Desperately he wanted answers, but he was equally unsure how to voice the questions.

"_**Much has occurred this night, young one. Are you not wondering about my presence in this place?"**_

Edward nodded slowly. _"I am concerned for my friends, for the people who were in this house when it was attacked. I know not what has become of them. Or that which was placed in our safekeeping. I fear that we may have failed in our quest this night."_

"_**Many a dark night has given way to a bright dawn."**_

"_Storms rage on regardless of the time of day."_

"_**Yet, here I may offer you comfort and perhaps the beginning of the answers you seek."**_

"_That would be much appreciated, my lord."_

"_**This then is for you."**_ He said, holding out a set of keys. _**"When you are all assembled you will know more. Take heart, Beloved of Ilúvatar, this world has been overcome, as has its ruler. The storm will pass and you will see the Promise of God once more."**_

"_Thank you—"_ he started, but the being was gone. Curious, Edward looked at the keys in his hand: one car key and one house key with an address written on the tag. Shrugging, he stalked back towards the street and began looking for a vehicle that matched the brand on the key. He finally found it halfway down the block: a nondescript two door with a dark bundle in the passenger seat. After unlocking the door and sliding into the driver's side Edward discovered that the bundle was a person. A strange person dressed in Elven clothing and wearing a quest-pendant. He recognized neither the face nor the engraved name, but was more worried about the fact that the person was unconscious than anything else.

Driving a few miles away to a payphone in a deserted parking lot, he dug up a few quarters and dialed a number.

"Allo?" came a sleepy female voice on the other end.

"Helen? This is Edward. Do you still have your first aid kit?"

"Edward?" the voice asked, suddenly coming very much awake. "Edward, what is wrong?"

"I need you to call roll and meet me somewhere as quick as possible."

"What do you need and where?"

"I find myself in need of sanctuary," he said, eyeing the address on the keychain, "and I have a friend who could use a helping hand."

"I see. Give me an hour."

"Fine. See you then."

The line went dead and he hung up the phone. Now to lose any tails that he may have picked up…

oOo

Elrond stepped away from the window and glanced back at the message pouches on his desk. _This is the right thing to do,_ he told himself. _You saw the way he was looking at them. First it is curiosity, then it is affection, then he thinks of them as family, and then there is no end to the pain. No. Separate them quickly and no attachments can be formed. No attachments, no pain. It is as simple as that._

Totally ignoring the haste with which he had made this decision the Lord of Imladris called for his seneschal to apprise him of his need to re-arrange the patrol schedule for that night.

oOo

Cyermanto stood in the doorway and silently observed his friend packing for the trip. Every once in a while the taller ellon's eyes would wander over to his desk where a white rose lay unobtrusively.

"_After all these years and flowers still fascinate you?"_ Cyermanto ventured.

"_I appreciate the beauty of creation wherever it may be found."_

"_Perhaps. All new things are interesting but some things fade in time."_

"_All things fade in time, Cyermanto. Arda is marred. Do not judge on that basis alone."_

"_On what basis do you judge flowers, then?"_

Arintiris walked over to his desk, retrieved the rose that lay there, and held it before him as he turned to face his long time friend. _"I have never seen a flower quite this dazzling before. It is unique of all the blooms in the garden. Even cut, separated from the bush that gave it life, its fragrance is strong and soothing. I take joy in this bloom because I allow myself to see its beauty, a thing you might consider for yourself."_

"_All roses have thorns, my friend. You would do well to remember that."_

Cyermanto turned on his heal and disappeared off down the hallway. Arintiris stared after him for a moment before turning back to his desk. Grabbing a slim volume from the shelf he pressed the flower between its pages and packed it with the rest of his things.

**Glossary**

­_Malthenas o Lórien_ = (S) "golden-ness"

_Neldhu o Mithlond_ = (S) "bell-voice"

**A/N:** Many thanks to UrbanFool for kicking my butt about not posting. You gave me the impetus to corral the plot bunnies into some semblance of order. I hope you liked it…


End file.
